Curiosity Killed the Cat
by justaGibbsgirl1980
Summary: I thought maybe Gibbs needed a new love interest, so I created one. While this isn't my first time writing fanfic, it is my first time posting fanfic. Not sure how the long the story will be but I'm gonna keep on til it's all played out. Please be gentle.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**_: I can't even afford the dvds. I own nothing.

She remembered it as if it were yesterday. She had come in early. Too early. Ziva wasn't even in yet. She hadn't been able to sleep. The dead officer's face kept creeping into her mind, goading her. He had been the victim but he had also been the killer. So she had showered, dressed, and drove. And she had ended up here. In her cubby, under the soft lights of the office. She had looked around, thinking how quiet it was without Tony and Ziva, arguing and flirting. Flirting and arguing. And McGee trying to mediate. And Gibbs. She turned in her seat and stared at his empty chair. Such a strong presence and yet she knew there was a vulnerability. She had rarely glimpsed that side of him. She got the feeling that no one ever got to see the inside of the famous Gibbs gut. And just as her mind had taken a more x-rated train of thought, it was interrupted by a low male voice.

"It's 3 in the morning, Lizzy. What the hell are you doing here"?

She turned to find Special Agent Gibbs' stealth blue eyes staring down at her. Coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other, he stood before her looking almost awake.

"It's amazing how the mind plays tricks on you. The whole REM thing—it's got to be fictitious. I personally am completely exhausted," she said as she covered a yawn with her hand, "but my brain had other plans. What's your excuse"?

"I ran out of sandpaper" he said.

"Sandpaper?"

"For my boat."

"Your boat?"

"Is there an echo in here?" Gibbs said as he sat down at his desk to the right of her.

"So you ran out of sandpaper for your boat at three in the morning and Lowe's was closed so you thought NCIS. NCIS sells sandpaper by the boat—load" she said and a smile crept across her face as she realized her pun.

Gibbs leaned back in his chair, facing her. He stared at her silently for a full minute, then spoke.

"Your computer's beeping. Any particular reason?"

"Actually—I was curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know," Gibbs said as he slid his chair over to her desk and set his coffee down.

"I heard that once" she said knowingly.

Gibbs tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

"Ok—more than once. So I'm a curious person. Is it a crime?" she said shaking her head.

"Then show me where your curiosity led you" Gibbs said, sliding his chair even closer so he could see her computer.

He doesn't even want to know where my curiosity would lead me when he sits this close, she thought. Mmmm…. And his aftershave. No, not aftershave, sawdust. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. There were few other things more attractive to her than a man that smelled that damn good. It was like an orgasm for the senses and Gibbs was a walking tribute.

Her fingers started moving quickly across the keyboard. "Petty Officer Simms not only was leading a double life but she was leading a very financially sound double life."

Gibbs looked sideways at her. "Meaning?"

"Meaning… that Officer Simms had an offshore account that is in excess of 10 million dollars. And if you trace the money to the point of deposit, you find out something even more interesting" Lizzy said as she double clicked her mouse and stared intently at her screen, zoning out momentarily.

"Do I have to beg?" he said, tilting his head to look at her.

She met his eyes and had the weird feeling that his train of thought had derailed at the same station as hers. The station of discarded clothes, heavy breathing, and blue eyes. Wow. She could stay stranded at this station for a while. The look in Gibbs eyes said he felt the same way.

Beg? he thought. Did he really just offer to beg this woman for information? He could think of a number of other things he'd like to beg this woman for and information didn't even make the top ten.

"So who's the curious one now?" she asked with a grin. "See for yourself" she said as she pointed toward the screen.

He knew he didn't have to but—what the hell? He stood and moved behind her chair and leaned in until they were almost cheek to cheek, a move he had seen Ziva perfecting with Tony for years. Damn she smelled good. Was it her hair? Maybe perfume? Her soap? Her voice broke into his thoughts.

"Officer Simms was running a brothel. She had modern day concubines who were on the clock 24/7 with all the profits dumped directly into--"

"The offshore accounts," Gibbs finished for her. "Is this her website?" he asked, his eyes moving across the screen.

"Excellent observation, my dear Watson" she said as she shifted position in her chair. Having Gibbs this close was making her senses go haywire.

"And the husband knew nothing?" Gibbs asked.

"Clueless. Like most me—"

She was cut off. "Don't even say it," he said with a grin and moved back to his chair. Being that close to her was giving him sensory overload.

"I was wondering…," she said as she reached for the coffee cup sitting on her desk. She sipped slowly and leaned back in her chair.

"Uh, Lizzy?" Gibbs said.

"Mmmm?"

She's clearly working an angle and has no idea she swiped MY coffee, he thought. Or did she? He wondered if she was aware of what she had done, and if she did, did she know how sexy she looked doing it. Lower lip resting on the lid of the cup. She slowly curled the cup into her chest. And sexy, hell! His coffee was his coffee and his coffee was black. And hot. And damn good. Not one woman in his life had ever shared his taste in coffee. Either she was too lost in thought to notice or she appreciated a good cup of java. Either way, it was his damn coffee!

"Lizzy" he said more sternly.

She jumped at the sound of his voice and took another slow sip of coffee.

"Sorry. I was just thinking that if Officer Simms' husband happened onto the website or found one of their catalogs by chance… Pure coincidence, really… Then he might have—"

She was cut off once again. "Lizzy"

"Yes Gibbs" she said turning to look directly at him.

"My coffee?" he said with an outstretched hand.

"No it's not. It's…" her voice trailed off as she realized that she had not stopped for coffee on her way in.

"It's what, Agent Edwards?" he asked as he reached for the cup.

"It's…damn good coffee" she said as she handed back the cup. He took a sip and leaned back, cup in hand.

"You know, most women don't appreciate a good cup of plain, thick as tar, straight brewed joe."

"If you haven't already noticed, Agent Gibbs, I'm not _anything_ like most women."

She leaned closer, took the cup right out of his hands, took a long sip, winked at him and set the cup between them.

Damn, this woman had balls, he thought. None of his ex-wives or ex-girlfriends had ever touched his coffee. This was insubordination. This was blatant disrespect for authority. AND it was sexy as all get out. An open challenge. Her arms were crossed, leaning on the desk. He moved his chair closer, crossed _his_ arms, and leaned in as well.

And this was how Ziva found them, many, many, minutes later. Staring at each other. Over top of a single cup of coffee. She raised an eyebrow and wondered if she should even ask.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer**_: see previous

Lizzy smiled when she thought about that moment. She had stared him down. And in the end, they had shared that entire cup of coffee. And every cup since. It hadn't been an easy win but she had been determined. The rest of the team thought she was crazy. And she was. What person, man or woman, in their right mind, with full control of their senses would openly challenge Leroy Jethro Gibbs over a cup of coffee? But she had needed to prove herself to the team, Gibbs most of all. So she had went for the gut shot. Literally. The famous Gibbs gut. And as if on cue, the elevator doors opened and the Great One appeared, coffee in hand. The cup looked larger than usual. She stood as he walked in.

"Morning " he said gruffly and handed her the cup.

"Some morning. Finally get a weekend off to get some repairs done and—

"It never fails" he finished for her. "Roof leaking? Gutters clogged?" he asked mindlessly while typing aggressively.

"Not house repairs" Lizzy said as she sipped the coffee and walked to his desk. He looked frustrated. She was afraid to ask why.

The elevator doors opened and Tony and Ziva stepped into the heart of NCIS. As they walked, Tony tried to pick something out of Zivas hair while she swatted at his hand. As they got closer, Lizzy took in the slightly disheveled appearance of both and shook her head, smiling. These two had been an "official-off-the-record" couple for a few months now and from all outward appearances, seemed to still be in the hazy, flirty, friendship stage they had always had. The only change she'd noticed was how they now acted on impulses instead of suppressing them. She had caught them more than once in the elevator, Abby's lab, autopsy… Ziva was somehow softer now, too. She was still a trained killer but some of the rougher edges had been polished.

The elevator pinged again and the doors slid open. McGee and Abby were both smiling. McGee pecked her cheek and stepped out. Abby waved as the doors slowly slid shut. They were opposite of Tony and Ziva. They fought like brother and sister but she felt the current. Electricity. She checked herself. That's my reaction to Gibbs, she thought. High voltage. Crackling. Sparking. And yet the man was unflinching. She hadn't made any direct moves. Ok, so she hadn't made any indirect moves either but she thought about it. That counted, right? She'd been out of the game for too long. She needed some batting practice.

"You know something Gibbs?" she asked as she placed the coffee cup into his outstretched hand.

"Mmmm?" he said vaguely as he stared at his computer and took a sip.

She leaned down until she was cheek to cheek and whispered softly.

"We seem to be the only ones in the entire NCIS abiding by Rule #12."

The three other members of the team were now staring intently at them. She assumed that few people ever got thisclose to Gibbs without an express invitation. Her breath was warm on his neck. As much as he would love to have this conversation with her, he had just found out the identity of the reason that they had been called in on a Saturday morning.

He let out a long sigh.

***

"So, Li-zzy," Tony said as he swiveled to face her, tossing a Nerf football in the air. "Boss says you're doing repairs. Need any help?" He tossed the ball to her. "A single woman of your age and experience, you might have trouble deciphering between a Philips and a flat head…"

"My age, Tony? I'm younger than _you,_" she said, punctuating her words with a direct hit to his chest.

"Nice shot. But seriously, if you need repairs done… I'm sure I could be of some service. In a previous life I was a macho, macho man." He tossed the ball to her again.

Gibbs grinned from behind his computer screen. Ziva looked confused.

"Thanks but I think I got it covered. And as much as I'd love to keep impressing everyone with my insane football skillz…" she said as she grabbed her bag and headed for the elevator, "I gotta go while I still have daylight."

"Wait, Lizzy," Tony said as he hopped up from his desk. "My ball?"

She was wondering how far she'd get with it. "Go long"

Tony ran the length of the cubicles and vaulted up the stairs. He made it to the top railing and turned just in time to see a perfect spiral sailing towards him. He made the catch and stood in awe. A round of applause started from somewhere. The elevator pinged and she couldn't help a quick look at Gibbs before she stepped into the conference room. He was shaking his head and laughing. She pressed a button and the doors closed.

"Boss, why don't you help Lizzy out? You'd b perfect for the job," Tony said as he rose from his desk, an hour later. "Ziva, you ready?"

"Almost," she said as she turned out her desk light.

"Dinozzo, I really don't think scraping leaves out of a gutter is anywhere close to being right up my alley," Gibbs said as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

The three of them walked towards the elevator.

"Gutters? I think you got the wrong memo, Boss," Tony said as they stepped into the conference room. "Lizzy's repairing her boat."

"Her what?!!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer**_: see previous

_**A/N**_: Last chapter was shorter because I wrote it as one full story to start with and had to decide how to break up the chapters.

Gibbs was furious. Ok not furious, he thought, but definitely pissed. He'd known Lizzy for three years. That was three years of stolen glances, winks, and a whole helluva lot of curiosity. In three years she had failed to mention her boat. Or boats, as Ziva and Tony had filled him in. She had known that he built boats. He thought back to the night he had ran out of sandpaper and ended up at HQ. He was sure she knew about his boats. Or did she? Had he gone three years and failed to mention his latest masterpiece? He honestly wasn't sure. His boats were his escape though they rarely served their purpose. He poured his pain into those boats. The latest was his best work. Probably because he had no more exes to name it after. No pain involved. He had taken care of that with his last one. It had been all Jenny with a little Lt. Col. thrown in for balance. _This_ boat was his. For pleasure. This one might actually see the water.

He was curious. He didn't want to be but damned if that woman didn't intrigue him. He had tried to keep his distance. He felt the electricity between them. After three years, it was more like high voltage currents. Like sitting directly under a power line and hearing it snap!crackle! and pop! He had caught her eyes on him more than once and felt it a million other times. Sometimes she was brazen in her glances. She would stare outright. He was less obvious but definitely no less in the times he had done it. But he knew better than to get involved with coworkers, especially the ones that worked under him. It was his own damn rule. Tony had finally broke and told him that Lizzy too built all her own water crafts. He had to admit he was impressed. He started to put his blinker on and pull onto his street but something stopped him. Something—probably that damn cat killing curiosity that he had always teased her about—was drawing him to the marina. It was dark now. He'd take a quick peek and leave. Just park, find the boat, give it the once over, and be on his way. He wasn't sure if they were pulling his chain or not. Had she really taken the time and patience and built like he did?

He pulled slowly onto the gravel lot and parked. Not a car to be seen. Even better, he thought. No witnesses to attest to his curiosity. As he walked across the wooden planks, he felt them sway beneath him. Lord, how he loved the water. He inhaled deeply. He stopped at each boat, searching for hers. Ziva had said it was called Little Bear. Strange name for a boat but he wasn't exactly Mr. Originality. As he looked further down the line of boats, he saw one that still had its lights on. And he knew. The famous Gibbs gut told him exactly who that light belonged to. But he couldn't drag himself away. So he continued until he came to her post. She had her back to him, hammering nails into the top of the cabin. He admired her figure. The way her jeans fit, the way her hair fell across the back of her flannel shirt. She rarely wore it down at work because it was so long. He'd been longing to run his fingers through it for three year now. She had made the mistake of wearing it down on her first day. He'd been left to fantasize about it ever since. He never saw her outside of the office. He waited for a break in the pounding.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

She spun around and a smile crept across her face.

"Permission granted"

He stepped down onto the boat and came to stand next to her. He searched for something to say. Usually he was the strong silent type. Usually he made them talk first. Most women couldn't stand the silence and had to fill the void. Lizzy was arguably not like most women, as she had always made a point to tell him. It was out of character for him to say even one word more than necessary. But he found himself wanting to engage her in conversation.

"So Captain…. finished all your repairs?"

"Almost. One more coat of paint on the top of the cabin and I'm calling it a night."

She reached around him for the paint canister and brush.

"You have another one?" Gibbs said looking around.

"I think I do. Lift that seat behind you," she said, moving out of his way.

"You don't act surprised to see me" Gibbs said as he rooted through anchor lines and fishing reels.

She grinned.

"I knew it was only a matter of time. It's not like I tried to keep it a secret. It's just a hobby."

Gibbs shook his head. "Button collecting is a hobby. Boat building is a passion. It has to be in your blood." He dipped the paint brush he had found into the can and started applying a layer to the cabin.

"A passion, huh? Well, the way the team talks you've certainly built a few in your time."

"In my time?" Gibbs frowned. "You make me sound ancient."

She threw back her head and laughed.

"Now why," he asked, turning to her, "is that even remotely funny?"

"You sound positively insulted," she said as she finished putting the last few strokes of paint on the wood. She moved to the edge of the boat and leaned over to rinse out her brush in the water. His mouth went dry as he watched her. She leaned back in and motioned for him to give her his brush. He stepped closer to hand it to her and continued to stare. She was beautiful. Long, brown hair. Ok, so he'd always had a thing for the redheads but even he could appreciate a womanly figure like that. She felt his gaze and smiled to herself. She wondered how many times he had felt that way under her appreciative gaze. She turned to face him. He met her eyes. And the eyes have it, he thought. Deep blue. Like the ocean reflected. Her words broke into his thoughts.

"Your _not_ insulted, are you?" she asked with a worried look.

"Not insulted, really," he said as she lead him into the cabin. "Am I really _that_ old to you?" Now Gibbs was the one with the worried look.

She reached for her Redskins hoodie and slipped it on. She tossed her backpack to the deck. "Not old." She gave him the once over. "Not old, just mature."

"Gee, that makes me feel so much better."

She laughed again and he laughed too. She made him feel incredible. He had more energy around her. He wanted to be with her. He needed to be with her. But Rule #12 kept slapping him in the back of the head.

"Coffee?" she asked. He nodded and she hit the start button on the microwave.

Gibbs took seat on the only one he could find—the bed. Uncomfortable didn't begin to describe his body. He was a composed man. He always wore his poker face, giving away little. He was not supposed to feel uncomfortable.

"So I'm curious, Lizzy…." he said as he tried unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position on her bed. Her bed. The place where she slept. On her boat. Where he could sleep with her. On her boat.

"Gibbs" she said as she turned to look him dead in the eye. He looked up and she held up a single finger and motioned him closer. He leaned in. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

He chuckled at her words and leaned back against the wall.

He remembered the first time he had told her that. Sitting close to her, feeling the heat, wanting more. And she had only been a member of the team for a few short months at that point. But wow—had she made an impression. Her first day and she had put him in his place. A feat few had accomplished without further perishing. She had marched right up to his desk and asked where hers would be. He had known she was coming, reviewed her file, and had been notably impressed. All the right degrees, training, and skills. She was Tony, Abby, and McGee rolled into one very fine package. What he hadn't counted on was the gumption, the attitude, and the ass. Smartass, nice ass. No matter how you looked at it, she had it all. And he had wanted it all. Since the moment she had stood in front of him, hands on hips, leveling those cool blues at him, goading him, willing him, daring him to challenge her. He had spoken in the Gibbs monotone. "You don't have one...yet." Her response had been non verbal. She very quickly and efficiently had removed McGee from his chair, rolled it over to sit next to his, sat, crossed her legs, and flashed him a DiNozzo smile. "I do now. What case are we working on today, _Boss_?" she had asked with all the innocence she could muster. And he had answered her. By giving her and the chair a shove across the bullpen. She smiled again and gave him a look. Game on, he had thought, watching her out of the corner of his eye. And sure enough she had been there the next morning, in his chair, typing on his computer, and taking his calls. She had pushed her way to the front of the class and demanded that he take notice. So she had slowly shifted into her role on the team. She knew computers as well as McGee, she knew forensics almost as good as Abby and her researching skills were very impressive. She had needed a few sparring matches in the gym to hone her skills but he had left that to Ziva, knowing that she would not find a better trainer. Plus Ziva always had a little extra aggression left at the end of the day and Lizzy had been a quick study.

He watched her in this small cabin. She reached into a cupboard and extracted a large coffee cup. He smiled when he saw it. His mind began to wander again, back to the first cup of coffee that she had pilfered. He smiled to himself. She removed the coffee from the microwave and filled the cup. She spoke.

"So, you're curious…."

" name Little Bear?"

Liz gave a small smile and sat next to him on the bed. She sipped at the coffee before handing it to him. "My dad was Papa Bear and I was Little Bear. He taught me all about boats. How to build them, how to sail them, and even how to put them in a bottle." She pointed to the shelf. "They were _his_ passion. A Marine to the grave." She was almost wistful as she spoke. "Semper Fi."

"I read your file. He died a few years ago?"

"Five. My boat was our last project together. He mainly supervised. There wasn't a whole lot he could do towards the end," she said in a soft voice.

"I'm sorry," Gibbs said and reached over to take her hand. It was warm to the touch.

"Don't be. Nobody lived life to the fullest like my dad. He never stopped. So I try my damndest to live my life the way he lived his."

"Well you're certainly full of something, but that could just be my age talking," he said with a grin.

She smiled and released his hand so she could turn in her seat. "You know, Abby always says that dating older is a sign of maturity. She never said what dating mature was. In any case, you probably still have a shot" she said as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. He almost stopped breathing. "You could spike your hair up like DiNozzo and have the women standing in line."

"What about you Lizzy? Would you stand in line?" Gibbs asked in a low voice, almost a growl. Head slap, head slap, head slap. What the hell am I doing, he thought. He stood, set their coffee on the counter and pulled her to her feet. Her heart started pounding outside of her chest. She was sure Gibbs could hear it. All of a sudden she was nervous. Terrified. Excited. She found her confidence.

"As I've mentioned before—curiosity killed that damn cat," she said grabbing the lapels of his jacket.

"Is that a yes?"

"It isn't a no," she said and he could hear the smile in her voice even though she wasn't looking directly at him. She seemed to be focused on his lapel. Or a button on his shirt. She was quiet. Too quiet. Finally she looked at him. Blue eyes met blue eyes.

Had she really said that? Out loud? To Gibbs? Crazy. No, not crazy. Insane, or…or…

Her mind gave her a mental Gibbs head slap. It did nothing for her body which wanted Gibbs. All of him. Had wanted him since the first time she had laid eyes on him across that desk. And now. Now, when she was thisclose to actually having Gibbs, she couldn't make the first move. He had to move first. He was Leroy Jethro Gibbs for heavens sake and that… that means that he steps up first. Which he had. He had stood, pulled her to him. Was she missing something? They were his damn rules. He had to be the one to break them. She stared harder into his eyes, praying to find something—anything that even remotely passed as a first move. At this point she would take blinking as a green light. But L.J. Tibbs didn't blink. He didn't flinch. He just put his arms around her waist and stared back.

Had she really said that, he thought. Damn woman wants it as bad as I do. Or does she? Her hands haven't moved passed my lapel. Maybe she wants permission. Permission to what? Kiss him? Go lower than the lapel? Her voice broke into his thoughts.

"So Special Agent Gibbs," she said in a low voice, pressing closer to him. "I showed you mine," and she paused, "now I get to see yours."

He looked down to see a twinkle in her eyes that he knew—or thought he knew. The boat. She had to be talking about the boat. "Aw, hell," he said. She stood back and motioned him out of the cabin. She shut off the lights and locked the boat down. He held her hand as she stepped to the dock.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer**_: see previous

_**A/N**_: Ok another short one but the whole chapter thing drives me nuts.

"Something I didn't ask you on the boat…" Gibbs asked as they walked side by side across the wooden planks. She looked up at him with one raised eyebrow. He smiled.

Uh-oh, she thought. Here it comes. Ok, so she wasn't sure what _it_ was but he was grinning like a damn Cheshire cat.

"Your car. It's still in the shop," he said as he pointed out the gravel lot that was empty but for his car. "How did you get here?"

She stopped and grabbed his coat. She held up a finger, telling him to stop for a second. She crossed her arms in front of her and gave her a head a nod.

"I Dream of Jeannie. Cute."

"But effective," she said. She smiled at him. "Ducky dropped me off. Tony offered but he was letting Ziva drive and…"

The approached his car. He disabled the alarm and opened the passenger door for her.

"And they say chivalry is dead," she said with a grin as Gibbs shut her door and walked around to his side.

It was quiet as they drove. Silence. No music for Gibbs, she thought. His voice broke the silence. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She looked sideways at him.

"Ok ten cents, but no more"

She grinned and laid her head back. "To be honest…"she said as she closed her eyes. This time he looked sideways at her. She was still grinning. "To be perfectly honest, I was thinking how curious could a cat be with nine lives."

This time he turned his head completely to look at her. She opened her eyes and gave him a wink. He threw back his head and laughed. Damn, he thought. He reached into his pocket and flipped something to her.

"What's this?" she said catching the small object.

"That one was definitely worth a quarter."

She opened her hand and sure enough…

She shook her head and flashed a smile. They fell into a comfortable silence until they pulled into his driveway. She was nervous. She hadn't been with anyone since she had started at NCIS. She had dated and flirted but nothing impressive. And here she was three years later wondering if it really was like riding a bike… But that's not what they were here for. They were here to look at the boat. Right?

She opened her door and stepped out. She reached for her backpack but he got to it first.

"I could have gotten that," she said.

"I know," Gibbs said, slinging the pack over his shoulder. "Just wanted to show you that chivalry is still alive and well in D.C."

They walked through the front door and she noticed he hadn't used a key to get in. The team had told her about the unlocked door but she hadn't believed them. He set her pack down at the foot of the stairs leading upward. He then took her hand and led her downward. Down a set of wooden stairs that brought them into his basement.

"Nice boat," she said, walking slowly around its entirety, her hands never leaving the wood. So smooth. And the smell. She inhaled. Almost another orgasm. This was the scent Gibbs wore. This was the attraction. She kept her hand to the boat. She took notice of the detail towards the ground and her eyes followed the railing as she walked. She momentarily forgot where she was. Her hand ran into Jethro's as she finished her examination of the boat. She looked up but never moved her hand. His hand was warm, as always. She had always loved his hands. The hands of a craftsman. She had daydreamed about those hands. Always tan and always…He stepped closer, putting her between himself and the boat.

Dammit Gibbs, she thought. She was going to explode. He was staring into her cool blues again and again she tried to read what they were telling her. Again with the poker face. Say something Lizzy, she thought. Anything, just speak.

"It's a beautiful boat Gibbs, but I have to ask—"

She paused and he smiled. He shook his head and she raised an wanted to know. They all wanted to know. How did he get the boat out? He already had an answer ready but she spoke quickly.

"—why no name?"

"Huh?" he said, confusion spreading across his face.

"Did you want me to sign it for you?" "Why," and she signed, "no" and she signed, "name" and she signed with a cute smile eating up her face.

"Most women want to know how I get the boat out of the basement" he said moving in slightly closer as he spoke.

"Jethro." she said as she slid his Carhartt vest off his shoulders. "I'm not most women and I—"she paused to slip her hoodie over her head, "—already know how you get it to the dock. It's a passion for me too, remember?"

"Passion." he said in a low voice growling with desire. He pushed her against the boat and leaned his head closer. His eyes darted from her eyes to her lips to her eyes. He wanted it as much as she did. She reached up both hands and pulled his face to hers. Their lips met in small kisses. When their lips met again, she deepened the kiss. She was pressed up against the curve of the boat and he was pressed against her. He broke away first but only to press kisses against her neck. He found his way back to her mouth.

This was real. This was happening, she thought. And it's good. Better than her daydreams. Better than her nightdreams. She had to find a bed. The upstairs seemed awfully far away. She wondered about the boat. He'd have to christen it sometime…

She slowly pulled her mouth away and pushed him gently back. She took his hand this time and pulled him to the stairs. She walked slowly even though she wanted to run. She made it to the platform on the stairs before he stopped her and pressed her against the wall. This time when he trailed kisses down her neck, he went further, further, until he came to a button. He pulled back long enough to undo one button and then kissed what had been revealed. He undid another button and his mouth followed. This time they made it to the foot of the staircase inside the front door. She pointed to the rooms above and he nodded. One foot on the bottom step but she was drawn back. He turned her slowly. The rest of the buttons were undone at a maddening pace. Her shirt fell open. Blue lace. Gibbs sucked in a breath. Before his hands could go any further, she reached for _his_ buttons. She pulled the shirt from his waist and unfastened every button. She started to reach to pull it off but was stopped. Gibbs gave her a hard kiss and turned her around and gave her a gentle push up the stairs. She held on to one of his hands as she ascended the steps ahead of her. At the top of the stairs, she looked left, then right, debating. He moved around her and led her to the bedroom.

***

He felt movement in the bed next to him. He struggled to open his eyes. He felt warmth against his back. Naked warmth. She had her arm across his hip and her fingers intertwined with his. He wondered about the time. The clock was on her side which was usually his side. He released her hand and shifted in the bed. He turned to look at her. Blue eyes again met blue eyes.

"You're awake,"he said yawning as he spoke.

"I'm trying to talk myself into my daily run," she said as she again brought her hand to rest on his hip. She moved closer.

"You want me to try and talk you out of it?" he said with a smile.

"Nope. I was actually hoping you'd go with me. I don't know this neighborhood."

"How long of a run are we talking about? Remember how _mature_ I am" he said laying flat on his back with his hands behind his head.

"Yea you're so old that we didn't get to sleep til 2" she smiled as her mind replayed a few choice scenes.

He grinned at her. He watched as she got up and looked around for clothing. She slipped on bra and panties but had to retrieve her backpack from the bottom of the stairs. She brought it to the bedroom and began searching for her sweats. She had packed warmer clothes thinking she was going to be on the water for a few days. She pulled on a t-shirt and slipped on her sweats.

"My hoodie?" she questioned Gibbs.

"Same place as my vest"

"The basement" they both said together.

She walked down to the basement and found their things lying in a heap on the floor. She picked them up and started for the steps. She stopped as she walked past the boat. She put her hand to the stained wood. She ran her hand back and forth. With the grain. Always with the grain. She closed her eyes and she could see her father. In that old garage, night after night. Her boat had been finished five years ago and she had not started another since. She missed the sanding and the pounding. And the sawdust. She took a deep breath and started towards the stairs. Gibbs was there. She hadn't even heard him come down. He looked at her then. She gave him a small smile and started up the steps.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Memories."

"Yea. I know."

And in that moment she figured out what it was about the basement, about the boat. The pain here was the same as in her garage. She followed him up the stairs. He had changed into sweats also and was leading her to the door.

"So what are we talking about here? Around the block? Around the park?" he said as he started jogging in place.

"How about we run til you catch me?" she said as she took off down the street. He shook his head. That won't be far, he thought. She doesn't even know where she's going. This is gonna be a short run, he thought as he took off after her. He finally caught up with her after a block and a lot of sprinting. She laughed when he caught up to her. She slowed her pace and let him keep time with her. They evened their pace and jogged in silence for a while, both lost in thought. The events of the night before replayed in Gibbs head. He couldn't remember ever feeling that satisfied. She had asked him where his energy was coming from and he didn't have an answer for her. But he had entered her body time and again. He glanced at her and wondered what came next. Not next as in the next hour or even the next day but… he had broke the rule. He knew it, she knew it. Lt. Col. Mann hadn't worked with him but she had pushed for answers. She had wanted more. More than he had wanted to give. What if Lizzy wanted the same thing? They had crossed a line. Not just any line…_the_ line. They had stepped right up to it. Taken a good long look and jumped it. And in their line of work, that line wasn't crossed without consequences….consequences and complications. Her voice broke into his thoughts.

She had turned around to face him and was now jogging backwards, a little ahead of him, and smiling.

"So is this your idea of keeping pace, Gramps? You've slowed down to a crawl and you've had your left turn signal on for the last ½ mile," she said as she picked up her pace slightly, challengingly.

"Gramps?" he said with a half grin on his face.

"Ok, ok. Sugar daddy, then." And she turned around and took off again, sprinting the last block to Gibbs house. She stood on the porch waiting for him. He was only a few seconds behind her.

"Damnit Lizzy," he said as he stood next to her, bent at the waist, hands on his knees.

She laughed. "I figure if I wore you out enough, you couldn't say no to going back to bed." She opened the door and they stepped inside. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss.

"Coffee first."

***


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer**_: Still can't even afford the dvds. Again, I own nothing.

The coffee machine was waiting with a full pot when they entered the kitchen. Gibbs reached in the cabinet and pulled out two cups. She gave a slight cough and he turned to look at her. She raised one eyebrow. He reached over and picked up the cup that he had set in front of her and returned it to the cupboard. He poured the coffee and returned the pot to its place. He retrieved the newspaper from the front bushes and motioned her upstairs, coffee in hand. They reached the bedroom and he set the coffee on the nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed, scanning the front page.

"We're going to be getting a phone call," he said as he handed her the paper. A marine's face stared back at her. She read through the article quickly, wondering how the press had found out before they did. She handed the paper back and reached for the coffee.

"You make one helluva cup of coffee. Anyone ever tell you that?" she asked, taking another sip.

"Yea. But I don't think they meant it as a compliment."

She laughed and walked over to her rucksack. She pulled out a pair of cargo pants and a long sleeved t-shirt. She dug to the bottom for bra and panties and grabbed her travel bag from the front pocket.

"I guess I'm gonna hit the shower," she said, gathering her things slowly, giving him time to join her if he wanted. Which clearly he didn't, since his eyes never left the paper. He just mumbled and sipped the coffee. She shrugged her shoulders and walked to the adjoining bathroom.

Wow, nice digs, she thought. She hadn't paid any attention the night before. They had been busy with other pursuits and had only used the bathroom briefly. She hadn't given it a second glance. The shower was big enough for…. Well it was big enough. With a large see-through glass door and wait… was that? It was. She almost let out a moan. Pulsating shower heads. She lost count at six. It didn't even matter there was a whirlpool tub or a large vanity. The man knew how to live. She wondered which ex wife had forced him into purchasing that shower. She needed to find out and thank her.

She reached into the cabinet for a towel and washcloth, surprised at how many were actually in there. The man had one for every day of the week. He probably didn't have to do laundry for weeks at a time. She started the water and let it run while she undressed. She opened the glass door, which was now foggy from steam and stepped inside. An actual moan escaped her lips this time. The water came from every direction and pounded against her body. The water wetted her hair and she reached for shampoo she didn't have. Damn, she thought. She used a small amount of Gibbs shampoo and soap. The shampoo rinsed out of her hair, and the soap off her body, she closed her eyes and let the water melt her. She inhaled and the Gibbs scent descended on her. She started thinking about the night before. How had boat repairs turned into…this? She remembered how slow it had started out and how frantic it had ended up. He had wanted to go slow. He had told her as much. But it had quickly become a fight for control. Not over who would be on top, but who could hold out the longest. It had only taken a few short thrusts and they had both admitted defeat. But after that, she thought, it was something out of a slut novel. She had her tricks and he certainly had had his. The whole M & M thing was interesting. They melt in your mouth, not in your… And then she heard it. The very smallest of creaks, and she knew that he had entered the room. She waited, her heart pounding, adrenaline rushing. And the glass door opened. She turned around and smiled at him as he stepped in.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were joining me," she said as she slid her arms up around his neck, stepping closer to his nakedness.

"Well…, you know…, if we share a shower, we save water," he said, a grin snaking across his face.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs, environmentalist and water conservationist. Whod've known?" she said matching his smile with her own.

"I'll do you one better."

She looked up at him and caught the twinkle in his eyes. She probably oughta run for the hills now.

"If I turn the water to cold," he winked at her, "we can make our own heat"

With that, he reached behind her and hit the knob and ice water came out of every jet available. She wanted to scream. She wanted to bolt. But here she was again, in his arms and suddenly, the cold didn't seem so cold.

She leaned into him and began kissing his neck, nipping and licking. His arms moved around her waist and he turned the knob back to heat. He backed her to the wall and captured her lips. He needed her again. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. He had only meant to get in the shower to tease her, not torture himself. Which is what he was feeling. Like a prisoner, shackled and chained. What was happening to him? They had to be at work in less than an hour. The phone call had come. Normally he relished in his work. It was a way to get by. Get through. Plus it meant that he got to see her. Her, who was now in his arms, in his shower, licking the water droplets off his earlobe.

He didn't want to think about work. The team would know. They knew everything. They picked up on vibrations that wouldn't even set off the Richter scale. How the hell did he expect them to miss something like this? The night before had been more than incredible. Was there even a word for something like that? He wondered how he should bring up the subject of work. They had to talk about it. They'd avoided it all night. But she didn't seem all that concerned with talking at the moment. Her hands were roaming his body, just like the night before. He reached down and lifted her until her legs wrapped around his waist. He pressed her harder against the wall for leverage. Where was this strength coming from? He was glad he had thought enough to install handles in this shower because it was looking like they were finally going to come in handy.

***

The shower ended and they dressed, realizing how little time the actually had left before the reality of the day took over. Gibbs came up behind her while she was packing up her bag. His arms slowly slid around her waist and he dropped a kiss on her neck.

"You could leave that here."

"I could," she said as she continued to stuff her belongings in the rucksack.

He gave her neck one more light kiss and headed downstairs. He checked to make sure the light in the basement was off and went to the kitchen to hit the power switch on the coffee maker. His stomach growled. He opened the fridge doors and leaned in for a look. He frowned. Take out containers cluttered the inside. There has to be something edible, he thought. He checked his watch and sighed. He shut the fridge door and turned around when he heard her coming down the steps.

"You ready?" she said as he came to stand in front of her.

"That sounds a little like a Freudian slip," he said as he leaned down to kiss her. She met his lips. "After you," he said as he opened the door.

They stopped for coffee and Lizzy waited in the car while Gibbs went after their breakfast of champions. He walked quickly back to the car, java in hand.

"Tony called. He said we should just meet him at the crime scene. Or lack thereof."

"Do I want to know?" he asked, handing her the coffee as he started the car.

"Probably not."

***

By the time they made it back to the office it was nearing noon. Gibbs sent McGee to deliver and help sort crime scene evidence with Abby. No sooner had they reached the bullpen than Tony and Ziva started arguing about lunch. And Lizzy… where had she gone, Gibbs thought. So far no one had suspected anything but they had stayed as far away from each other at the crime scene as possible. It didn't stop him from watching her, though. The way she stood when taking notes, the way her hips moved when she walked, the fact that her beautiful tresses were locked away under that damn ballcap. He sat at his desk, turning his own hat over in his hands. He must have looked a little funny because he noticed the bickering had stopped and Tony and Ziva were both staring at him.

"I hope you're looking at me like that because you have something for me," he growled. They jumped into action.

"Uh, sure thing, Boss," Tony said, looking completely unsure of himself. "I found out that the cell phone we found is registered to a guy by the name of…"

And Tony's words were lost as Lizzy came striding into the bullpen. He tried not to look. Tried to focus on what Tony was saying. She walked to her desk and sat down, switching on her computer. She apparently was having no trouble focusing. How can that be, Gibbs thought. Less than 24 hours ago, she was underneath me. I was underneath her. He shook his head, as if that would un-jumble the thoughts rolling around in it. Lizzy's voice floated into his head.

"What was that cell number, Tony? I'll set up a trace and see if it has a GPS chip."

"Umm, not sure…gimme a minute." Tony said scratching his head and fumbling with the keypad on the phone.

"Toss it here," Lizzy said, turning in her chair. Tony look relieved. "And if you're ordering food…"

She was cut off midsentence by Gibbs. "Nobody's ordering food until I get some answers. More that just a name on a cell phone," he said as he stood and walked around his desk, heading for the hallway.

"Actually Boss it was the name of the guy who owned the cell phone not a name in the phone…" Tony said but his voice trailed off as he noticed Gibbs walking away as he finished his sentence.

"Wow," Ziva said, shaking her head. "He is like a turkey with a sore butt, yes?"

"Actually, that's bear with a sore ass, Ziva my darling," Tony said as he sat back down at his desk.

In the men's bathroom, Gibbs was pacing. This is why, he thought. Dammit, this is why there are rules. Rules to be followed, not shit on. And that's exactly what he and Lizzy had done. Last night. In his bed. In his shower. Over and over again. He leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes. He saw her jogging backwards, laughing. He saw her wrapped in his sheets, resting against the headboard of his bed, hair undone .This wasn't going to work. He wanted to make it work but how? He was a self proclaimed bastard. He had married and divorced enough times to know the signs. A hot attraction to a quickie ceremony to an even quicker divorce. The famous Gibbs gut. What was it telling him now? It had to end. Today. Now. No, not now. Not here. Later. He just had to make it through the day. Just a few more hours. He took a deep breath and glanced in the mirror. He sucked in his gut and turned sideways. Not bad for a sugar daddy.

He strode out to the bullpen. He rounded the corner and saw Ziva talking on the phone, with what was fast becoming a look of frustration on her face. Tony was at Lizzy's desk, staring at her computer. Gibbs sat at his desk , about to bark out an order when he noticed color. Green M & M's were dotted along his desk in what looked like an outline of a woman's body. He gulped. Damn that woman. He slowly looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. Everyone was still intent on the task at hand. He stared at the candy. It stared back. He remembered how he had dotted her skin with them. He had enjoyed making them disappear. He was picking them up when a shadow cast over the desk.

"You know Boss, you really shouldn't hold them like that." McGee said, staring down at him. "You know the saying…"

Gibbs looked up

"Well, what I mean is that… what I'm trying to say is…" McGee stuttered.

"Yea?" Gibbs said

"Well they're M & M's, sir. They melt in your mouth, not in your…hand."

"Yea. I got that, McGee."

"I didn't know you liked M & M's, Boss," Tony said as he came to stand next to McGee.

"I don't," he said spinning around to dump them in the trash but not before he caught the twinkle in Lizzy's eye.

"What color were they, Boss. Because the green ones, you know, make you—"and he caught the look in his bosses eye and decided to rephrase. "They make your tongue turn green," he finished with a smile.

"That is funny," Ziva said as she came to stand next to her partners. "I have always heard that that they make you horny."

Tony shot her a death stare, McGee's face turned a pretty pink, and Gibbs choked on the sip of coffee he had just taken. They all looked at one another and bolted for their desks.

Lizzy was the only one brave enough to approach the snarling beast.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer**_:_ Hoping to get the dvds for Christmas. Then I might actually own something important._

The day had finally ended for Lizzy. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Gibbs had seemed overly agitated today, with good reason. She should have told him how she felt about the whole situation this morning before they left. But her body had just kept pushing for more. And she had given in. Probably all of Gibbs women gave in that easily but there was just something about those eyes. And the hands. And the hair. All right, so there was little about him that _wasn't_ attractive. She wondered at what point all the others had jumped ship. Did he not pay them enough attention? Maybe it was the whole single word conversation thing that broke the marriages. Maybe they just wanted too much. Gibbs was not a man to be pushed or pestered. She had had three years to decide how a relationship with Gibbs would go if she ever got the chance. She had paid attention to the comments made about the ex wives, the ex girlfriends. And still, here she was with the silver platter in front of her and she was at a loss. She glanced sideways to see if he was still brooding. Ok, so the green M & M's might have been a little much but it was so worth the look on his face. She smiled to herself. Suddenly a voice came from out of nowhere, startling her right out of her chair.

"Something funny, Agent Edwards?" Gibbs asked, as he caught her before she hit the ground.

She stood up and straightened her shirt, looking over to see if McGee had been watching. Not only had he been watching but he had been recording. No doubt it was already being sent to all members of the team. Damn, she thought. I'll have to remember the superglue tomorrow. If there was anything she had learned from Tony, it was that absolutely anything was funnier with superglue, especially when it came to McNerdstrom.

"No boss, just smiling because the day's over," she said as she adjusted her chair and sat back down. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Was there something else you needed, sir?" she asked, tilting her face to look at him.

He growled. "Don't call me sir."

"Well then, sugar daddy, if there's nothing else…. I'm heading home." She turned to look at McGee. He tried to pretend he wasn't listening but she could hear his fingers furiously texting every word she said.

"How bout a ride, McGee?" she asked, knowing full well he would refuse. He had just sent that amusing video to all of their coworkers. There was no way he would let her ride in a car with him where there would be no witnesses. He shook his head and grabbed his gear. He didn't even stop long enough for the elevator doors to open, deciding the stairs might be quicker. She stood then and pulled her hoodie over her head. Her ponytail got caught and she pulled out the scrunchie. The layers fell across her back and she ran her hands through it a few times, trying to get the kinks out. She felt Gibbs eyes on her and turned to face him.

"So how bout that ride?" she asked, grabbing her backpack. "Or are you gonna make me walk?"

He stood and grabbed his own bag. He probably should make her walk, he thought. But if he was truly being honest with himself, he wanted to be with her again tonight. He knew it was wrong. He knew that he would end up leaving her or she would leave because of him. That's what the second "B" was for, right? He couldn't see this being any better than his last relationship. Hollis had wanted a commitment. A reason to stick around. He hadn't been able to give her one. So if he ended this tonight with Lizzy, he would still be a bastard but his life would be back to normal. She was young, she'd bounce back, he thought. She didn't need to be wasting time in a relationship with him when she could have something a lot more meaningful with someone else. He could offer her good coffee in the morning and a warm bed at night but that was it. None of the others had understood. He had tried it. He had tried it three times thinking that maybe the next one would be different. But they had all been the same. They didn't appreciate the role the job had in his life. They didn't appreciate that he needed his own time. That it was ok to leave him alone every once in a while. Maybe that's what he needed. Maybe he needed someone that understood the job. Maybe Rule # 12 wasn't such a great rule after all. He turned to ask if she was ready to go but found the bullpen empty. Great, he thought. So lost in my own brain, she got a ride with someone else. He turned off his desk lamp and headed to the elevator.

She was waiting for him when he reached his car. Leaning with her back against the passenger door, head tilted back, eyes shut. "What took you so long, Agent Gibbs?" she asked, never opening her eyes as he approached her. "Something on your mind?"

"Yea. Green M & M's. Get in."

She waited for the lock to click and opened her door. She slid inside just as he started it up. She buckled her seatbelt, knowing full well that Mr. Nascar was in the driver's seat today. She watched him as he drove. His hands kept twisting around the steering wheel. There was something on his mind. Something eating at him. He was tense. She should say something but what was there to say. Ok, so there was plenty to say but they would have their time to talk. The silence continued until they reached her house. She had inherited her dad's house after he passed away. It was a beautiful log home that wasn't too big but had always seemed just right. He had built it for her mother and she had adored it.

The car came to a stop in front of her garage. For a split second she wondered if Gibbs was coming in. He made no move to put the car in park so she grabbed her bag and opened the door. She wanted to say something, but again she came up at a loss. She got out and Gibbs put the car in reverse and backed into the turnaround spot. She started to walk to the side door of the house but realized she still could hear the car motor running. He's just waiting to see that I make it inside safe, she thought. But when she turned around to wave, she saw Gibbs just sitting in his seat, with his head against the headrest. All of a sudden he snapped forward and slammed his hand against the steering wheel a couple of times. She knew that feeling. It had been coursing through her veins all day as well. She set her bag next to the door and slowly walked over to the car. She approached his side and stood, staring in at him. She reached out and opened the door, leaned inside, and reached for the gearshift. She threw it up into park, turned the switch in the ignition and tucked the keys into the front pocket of her hoodie. He turned his head to look at her, their faces only inches apart.

What was he still doing here, he thought. Ok, so he was supposed to be ending it. He was supposed to be practicing the words to say in his head. He had wasted the entire ride. He could have grown a bigger set of balls and ended it in the car. But no, he had waited. Now here he was, in her driveway, in his car, his face inches from hers and God help him, he didn't want it to end. She probably though he was a jackass. And she would be right. But as she inched her lips closer, closer, the thoughts running through his mind disappeared. She met his lips for only a second before backing out of the car. He got out of the car and before she could get away again, he pressed her against the car and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted her lips, her tongue, and finally pressed kisses to her neck. She reached down and hooked her fingers in his belt loops. When he brought his face up to look at her, she spoke.

"So you liked the green M & M's, huh?" she asked, trying to keep a grin from spreading across her face.

"Ya think, Agent Edwards?"

She smiled, gave him a quick kiss and pulled away from him. They walked to the house. She dropped her bag on the couch as they entered the living room. Gibbs let go of her long enough to take off his coat and then he captured her again. This time the kiss was slow and deep. She backed him to the couch and pushed him down. She yanked her sweatshirt off and he reached out to her, pulling her down. She straddled him and her arms went around his neck. Their lips met in a crushing kiss that was nothing short of frenzied. It was an invasion, a struggle for control. She broke off the kiss only to refocus her attention on the small area of exposed skin at the top of his shirt collar. She slowly undid the first button of his shirt. Then the second. Every button that was undone revealed more of the raw masculine flesh she knew was under it all. His skin was hot under her lips. He could barely breathe much less think coherent thoughts. All she was doing was kissing him. On his chest. With her hot breath lingering after each one. How did I ever go without this, he thought.

"The bedroom?" he asked, his voice rasping with desire.

She pulled back to look at him, arching an eyebrow. "You're not an adventurous man, Jethro? No kitchen table? No bearskin rug?"

"Later," he said as he grabbed her around the waist and stood. "Later we will be adventurous. Now we will find the bedroom."

She couldn't help herself. It was out of her mouth before she had time to stop herself. "Would it help if I left a trail of M & M's?" she said, not even trying to hide her laugh. He gave her a wry grin and pulled her to him, hard. Her face was inches from his.

"The bedroom Agent Edwards," he said in a low growl, then paused. "Please?"

"Walk this way, Agent Gibbs," she said as she sashayed up the stairs to the loft bedrooms. Gibbs shook his head as he watched her.

"Ain't no way I can walk like that," he said as he followed her up the stairs and in to he bedroom where she was already stripping clothes. "Ain't no way in hell."

***

They lay on their sides, naked, facing one another with only a sheet covering them both. All other pillows and bed coverings had been lost in the frenzy. And the aftermath. Gibbs stared at Lizzy, knowing that he had screwed it up again. He had let his libido get the better of him, again. If he wasn't careful he was gonna start creating a pattern here. He could think of a million reasons why this wasn't going to work out and very few why it would. He leaned over to kiss her as her fingers traced over his chest.

"So what are we up to now, a quarter?" she asked, pulling him to her.

"A quarter?"

"For your thoughts. We're up to a quarter now, right?"

He laughed and kissed her again, running his hand the length of her body. Damn she felt good, he thought. His hand came back up to tangle in her hair.

"God, I love your hair," he said as he brushed a few wayward strands out of her face.

"_That's_ what you were thinking?" she said giving him a curious look.

"Well, that's one of the things…" he said.

"And the other?"

"I was thinking now would be a good time for a drink," he said, sliding to the edge of the bed.

"Good thinking. Get dressed."

"Dressed?"

She got up off the bed and started searching for her panties. And her bra. And his boxers, which she threw at him while talking.

"I keep the good stuff in the garage," she said as she pulled on a pair of sweats and a Redskins tee. She walked over to stand next to him as he finished dressing. She rested her hands on his hips and stood on tip toes, looking him straight in the eyes. She stared for a full minute before backing away. He wondered what she had been searching for and wondering more if she had found it. She grabbed his hand and led him downstairs. At the bottom of the steps she turned left and pulled him through the kitchen to a door. The door led to a short, enclosed hallway that led to another door. "Mom had to use a wheelchair towards the end and so Dad built this so she could come and be with him in the garage when he was working on his boats," she explained. Lizzy opened the second door and they stepped into an old wooden structure. "It's not much but Dad loved it. He spent any time that he wasn't at work in here."

Gibbs let go of her hand and slowly walked around the garage, picking up random tools, inspecting the large array of ships in bottles that lined the shelves. He heard the familiar sound of nails and screws hitting a work bench. He turned to see Lizzy reaching into the depths of one of the numerous cubby holes above the bench and extracting two shot glasses. He couldn't help but think that the glasses seemed a little small for his taste. Aw hell, Jethro, he thought. You can always have more than one.

He looked around for a chair and found an empty 5 gallon bucket that he promptly turned over and set on the floor. He found a second one just as he heard a thump behind him. He saw Lizzy out of the corner of his eye come to a full standing position on the work table.

"What the hell are you doing. Lizzy?"

She smiled at him as she opened the top cabinet door above her, stood on her tippy toes and reached to the back. She slowly brought out a single mason jar. No label, no markings. Gibbs walked over to stand next to the work bench and looked up at her. She handed him the jar, which he carefully set on the table next to him. He turned to help Lizzy down but she was already standing beside him. Gibbs picked up the jar and examined it.

"Is this what I think it is, Agent Edwards?" he said, raising an eyebrow as he attempted to open the lid.

"It ain't no Gin and Tonic, if that's what you're thinking," she said, smiling as she took the jar from him and grabbed a screwdriver. She tapped on the edges and gave it a twist. He grabbed the shot glasses and they moved to the buckets. She opened the jar and held it to her nose. She loved the smell of peaches. She filled each glass to the top and set the jar on the floor, not sure if Gibbs would be able to handle second shot. They clinked glasses and took the shot. Hers went down smooth as silk. Years of taste testing experience. Gibbs tried his damndest to make it look good but he sputtered and choked and coughed. She grinned and held up the bottle. "Wanna try again?"


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer**_: see previous

He had seen the twinkle in her eye as she had poured the first drink. He had chosen to ignore it. His drink of choice at home was 150 proof. Hers smelled like peaches. But here he was, choking as if she had fed him a chicken bone. And there she was pouring herself another round. He tilted his head and looked at her.

"Did your daddy know you had this?" he asked, teasing.

She smiled and leaned in closer. "My daddy _made_ this," she said as she took the second shot. "You done? Two is enough for me. Lasts longer that way."

"Your father made moonshine?" Gibbs said, looking around. "Here?"

She nodded and Gibbs laughed. "Not a bad gig if you can get it. Not a bad gig at all," he said as he stood and reached for her hand. She allowed herself to be pulled up. She took his glass and the bottle of 'shine and put them back in their spots. She took Gibbs hand and jumped to the floor. He had his back to the workbench, leaning against it and she turned to press her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head to rest in the crook of his neck. She closed her eyes and inhaled. There it was again. The pure scent of Gibbs. And sawdust. Sawdust and Gibbs. His arms tightened around her and she felt herself melt into him. This was where she needed to be. His arms were safe and protective.

This was it, he thought. The bastard moment. He had to let her go. He knew that eventually she would want more from him than he could give. She would want commitment. A ring. A little Gibbs. Shannon and Kelly still haunted his thoughts everyday. So what if he hadn't moved on. He didn't have to. He had tried. And failed. Again and again. He had tried marrying again to fill the void but it had never worked. He had tried dating again and it usually worked out in the beginning. But when they started pushing, he pushed away. It wasn't Lizzy's fault. She wasn't going to understand that. He liked Lizzy. Elizabeth. Agent Edwards. He liked her more than any of the others, ex wives included, and he had married them. He liked her almost enough to want to find out where she might take him. Where the untraveled road would lead. He tensed slightly thinking about how this might affect them at work. But she was a professional, like him. They knew the rules. They would handle it. Now… where to begin?

Lizzy had felt the man behind her tense slightly. Here it comes, she thought. The I-don't-think-we-can-do-this-because-I'm-a-bastard speech. She'd heard about from Tony. She just had to beat him to the punch.

"Lizzy," he said in a low voice, close to her ear.

She turned to look at him, making sure his arms never left her waist. "Gibbs."

He opened his mouth to speak but she started first. In her best Gibbs voice, she spoke.

"_Lizzy, I'm a bastard. That's just how it is. This thing between us, no matter how intense, just can't work. It'll be good at first, hell, probably spectacular, but I'll start pushing you away and you'll get pissed and end up hating me. So if I end it now, we might be able to salvage a small piece of friendship out the whole mess."_

Gibbs stared at her. How had she known, he thought. And she had nailed it. Almost word for word, inflection, tone, and facial expression. She'd been spending too much time with Abby.

She smiled at him. "How'd I do?"

All he could do was shake his head. She leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were warm. He felt his resolve weakening. She pulled away slightly, but remained close.

"Lizzy, I—" he said but was cut off.

"No."

"No?"

"Let me lay it out for you, Gibbs," she said as she tightened her grip around him. "I, me, the person standing in front of you right now, do not want a commitment. I don't want to date. I don't want a ring, and I sure as hell don't want a house key."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Ok so the key thing would be pointless. This," and she paused to point between herself and Gibbs, "is good. It's intense, it's insane, it's passion. I'm not gonna push you. I'm not gonna call you every night to talk. I'm not gonna pass you notes in study hall. I'm not gonna ask you to love me."

He opened his mouth but she stopped him.

"When you need me, you'll find me. When I need you, you'll be there. I'm not going to want more, Gibbs, because right now, more is not something you can give me."

His mind was spinning. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to cuss him, send him out the door and come Monday, throw him evil stares across the bullpen. Or pay Ziva to throw something other than stares. But she hadn't swore, or handed him his coat, or even slapped his face. She had said she understood. Not directly but she had made it clear. Was this really gonna work, he thought. He didn't know if could do this. He had spent the day preparing for it to end. He had fought with himself to the point of insanity. This woman had gotten to him. Gotten to him in a way that he hadn't felt since he was waiting for that train back in Stillwater. He had already started the blockade in his mind to prevent the thoughts of the previous night from filtering through. He looked at her. Stared at her. She smiled at him.

"So is that a yes?"

"It sure as hell isn't a no," he said, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her to the workbench. She was now eyelevel with him. She parted her legs and he moved to stand between them, his hands resting on her hips. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She looked at him, catching something in his eyes.

"This _will_ work, Jethro."

"Ya think, Edwards?"

"Actually I was lying." Gibbs heart skipped a beat. What? What had she just said? Lying? He tensed in her arms.

"Yea. You see, I've heard that relationships based on intense circumstances never work out."

He gulped and took a deep breath, meeting her eyes but was surprised to see laughter in them. He took a chance.

"Really?" he said wondering what was so funny.

"No not really. Haven't you ever seen Speed? Sandra Bullock, Keanu? Shoot the hostage? Pop quiz, hotshot? Bomb on bus?"

Now he really was confused. What the hell was she talking about?

"It's a movie Gibbs. You've never heard 'shoot the hostage, take him out of the equation'?"

"No but it sounds like something I'd say."

"That's just what I was thinking. The line about the relationship was from that movie. Never mind. No more movie quotes, I promise."

"Sure thing, DiNozzo," he said as he leaned in and captured her lips with an intensity he didn't know he possessed. She deepened the kiss, and he was lost to her. He wanted her now. He needed her now. He ripped his lips away from hers and looked around the old garage. Now he was the one with the twinkle in _his_ eyes.

***

"So when was the last time you had a home cooked meal, Jethro?" Lizzy asked as she walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"1975, 76," he said as he walked slowly around the house, picking up a photo here, a knickknack there.

A dish towel sailed through the air and landed a direct hit to his head.

"Hey. I wasn't kidding," he said as he threw the towel back. She pulled it out of the air and dropped it to the counter. She pulled out potatoes, onions, meat, and a variety of herbs and spices.

"Well I guess if we're gonna be 'not dating', you'd better get used to the idea of eating in."

He came into the kitchen as she was beginning to peel the potatoes. "What can I do?" he asked, pulling up a chair next to her at the table.

"The onions. Peel, cut, and slice."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each intent on the task at hand. A buzzing noise sounded and Lizzy looked up from her potatoes.

"Is that mine or yours?" she asked.

"Mine or yours what?" Gibbs asked, looking irritated that the noise was continuing.

"Phone, Gibbs. Phone. Mines on vibrate. I bet you can't guess where I keep it when I'm driving," she said, winking at him. She got up from the table, wiping her hands, searching for the phone. The buzzing stopped. It started again, seconds later. She located the phone on the coffee table and looked at the front screen.

"It's DiNozzo," she said, motioning him to be quiet.

"Home of the Whopper. What's your beef?" she said smiling at Gibbs from the living room. He chuckled to himself and took over her potato peeling.

"Gibbs? No, I haven't seen him. Why?" she asked as she walked back into the kitchen and came to stand behind his chair. "Did you try his cell? Hmmm. Must have it turned off."

She leaned over his left side and pressed herself against his back. Still talking to Tony, she started kissing Gibbs neck and ear, and running her hand down the expanse of his chest.

"Yea, he drove me home but he didn't stick around. Probably at home working on a boat. Yup. If I hear from him I will tell him to call you."

She snapped the phone shut and pressed one last kiss to his pulse point. "You need to call Tony."

He turned in his chair and pulled her onto his lap. "Is it important?" he questioned, as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Um, well…he apparently got wind of another harassment meeting or sensitivity training or something he knew you would want to avoid."

"And?"

"And I think he assumes you will find a way out of it."

"I always do," he said.

He watched Lizzy as she moved about the kitchen, trying to think back to exactly how long it had been since a woman had cooked for him. He remembered how Shannon used to stand at the stove, humming to herself. God, he missed her. Every day. He tried not to think about it, tried not to let it interfere with his daily routine but every day brought a new reminder. Always something different. A woman on the street flipping her hair the same way she did. A little girl walking hand in hand with her dad. A word. A look. The look in someone's eyes. Every day brought a new memory. Lately he'd spent more time staring at their pictures than he wanted to admit. He felt withdrawn from the world. But Lizzy changed that. He made the decision to be with her. He didn't regret that decision but he did regret knowing that she couldn't have all of him. He just couldn't find a way to move forward. It wasn't fair. It hadn't been fair to the ex-wives, to Jenny, or to Hollis. And now it wasn't fair to Lizzy. But what was it she had said? 'I'm not going to want more because more is not something you can give me'. How had she known? None of the others had ever given him that out. But she shouldn't have to give him an out. He didn't deserve one. But she had given it to him whether he deserved it or not. And she was young. Too young to be tied to him. Too young to be with a man who couldn't give her everything she deserved. She deserved a man who would love her. But again, he thought, she had told him she didn't want love. What kind of woman didn't want love? Another out. She had given him _another_ out.

He got up from his chair and walked over to stand behind her as she cooked. She felt his warmth immediately and turned her head towards him for a kiss. He moved his hands across her back and felt her relax under his touch.

"Smells incredible. What is it?"

"Calvin Klein Euphoria," she said with a grin as she turned in his arms to face him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you meant the food," she said teasingly. " Italian herb and cheese crusted pork loin, fried potatoes and onions and biscuits."

"Now that's a home cooked meal," Gibbs said, leaning in to kiss her neck. "Mmmm, you do smell good.

"I taste even better."

"Scratch that," Gibbs said after a long, searching kiss. "That's a home cooked meal."

_**A/N**_: Still ain't done yet…


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer**_: See previous

He looked across the bullpen at her. She was working with Tony at his computer, her face scrunched in frustration. Gibbs couldn't tell if the frustration was directed at the computer or at Tony. All of a sudden, her hand came up and landed a perfect Gibbs head slap. Must've been Tony, he thought, smiling. She caught his eye across the small space and winked. God she was beautiful, he thought for the millionth time that day and about the trillionth time since they'd started this crazy relationship three weeks ago. Three weeks and nothing had changed. He still wanted her with all the intensity of their first time. He loved talking to her. He loved not talking to her. She still respected his space and, at times, he almost wished she would invade it. Sometimes, he almost felt like she gave him too much space. He found himself _wanting_ to call her every night, just to see what was running through her head. He was scared that it was almost too good. But it was only three weeks, he thought. What would three months bring? Another head slap caught his attention and he looked up at Tony. He saw his senior field agent ducking as Lizzy took another shot at him. She grabbed her paperwork and stomped over to her desk. She must've heard it coming because she turned around just in time to catch the Nerf football that was zooming towards her head. She grabbed it and slammed it back at an unprepared Tony. Gibbs just shook his head and turned to answer his phone.

That damn DiNozzo, she thought, as she slammed her papers down on her desk. Irritating as hell. Pretty package but couldn't go 30 seconds without an aggravation. She shouldn't have head slapped him. Ok, maybe once but probably not twice. She stared at her computer, hoping that the information on the Lt. would magically appear. To her. Not magically appear to DiNozzo. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Gibbs. She thought back over the past three weeks and a smile crept across her face. She was glad that she hadn't let him go. She still couldn't believe that she told Gibbs no. She hadn't even given him a vote. But he certainly isn't complaining, she thought. She watched him hang up the phone and walk out of the bullpen. Her eyes followed him up the stairs and into MTAC. Confidence, she thought. He was a man of confidence and convictions. And he was sexy as hell. The team, if they suspected, had said nothing. But she was pretty sure they didn't even suspect. She and Gibbs had kept it professional at work. Not even a stolen kiss on the elevator. But there were ways and they had found them. Her screen beeped at her and she turned her focus to the words in front of her.

Gibbs opened the door to MTAC and walked out. He wasn't mad, for once. Any conversation he had with the toothpick lately seemed to end in a helluva fight. But this time, he couldn't have been happier to let the FBI handle it and that was saying a lot. He liked to throw Fornell a bone every once in a while. He was sure the team wouldn't mind knocking off early. He walked back to his desk and sat down, yelling at the team to go home before he changed his mind. He reached across his desk to turn his screen off and noticed a yellow post-it note attached to his desk. The only thing on the yellow post-it note was a single green M & M and the words 7pm. He grinned and looked over to smile at her but she was gone. She hadn't even waited to walk out with him. But the smile never left his face. He knew he would be seeing her soon. He wondered, as he walked to the elevator, what kind of home cooked meal he was getting tonight.

***

"Pizza," she said as she spread out paint swatches on the coffee table. "The 'Skins won yesterday so we get a Papa John special."

"Pizza?" he said as he hung his coat over a kitchen chair. "Isn't that my speciality?"

"Hey. I have cooked for you every night you've been over. I've slaved over a hot stove for days on end to just to please you. You don't think I deserve a break?"

He had to laugh at the look on her face as she sat on the floor, between the coffee table and the couch, surrounded by color samples. He walked over to the couch and sat behind her, reaching out to massage her shoulders as he dropped slow kisses on her neck. Her hair was still up in that damn ponytail she was always wearing to work. He tugged gently at her scrunchie and her hair fell to her waist.

"You make a decision yet?"

"Naah. Ziva said I should do earth tones, Abby said pink and black, McGee said plain old white and Tony…. Well, I'm sure you saw the head slaps. I didn't even ask his opinion."

"It's your office, in your house, what's the big deal?" Gibbs asked, shaking his head.

There was a knock on the back door and she moved to answer it but he pushed her back down.

"I'll get it. You just keep…" he waved his hand at all the colors, "…not choosing."

"My wallet is in my purse on the counter."

"I said I got it," Gibbs said as he walked towards the door.

"No, damnit. You know the rule. Your house, you pay. My house, I pay. My wallet is in my purse on the counter."

Gibbs knew better than to argue. He grabbed her purse off the counter. He hated purses. Small ones, fat one, ones with too many pockets, ones with not enough pockets… He found her wallet on the first try and went to open the door. The pizza boy was standing there waiting, pizza in hand.

"That'll be $15.23."

Gibbs opened her wallet and extracted a twenty dollar bill and handed it to the boy. He set the pizza on the counter as the boy was making change. Gibbs handed the pizza guy a few dollars for a tip and shut the door. He opened her wallet again to put the change in it and noticed her pictures. He smiled at the first one. Lizzy and her dad were at the marina with a boat and a bottle of champagne, grinning from ear to ear. He flipped to the next one and found one of her and Abby in a photobooth. A few more of the team and he flipped to the last picture. It was a newborn baby. A little discolored, a little different but ten fingers and ten toes. He wondered… He looked at Lizzy who was still intent with her colors. He pulled the picture from its case to get a better look and another one fell out behind it. He leaned over and picked it up, noticing the writing on the back before turning it over. Mama's boy, it said. May 30, 2001. Gibbs flipped the picture over to see a much younger Lizzy staring back at him, holding the baby in her arms. He held it closer. It was the same baby, he thought. He hadn't heard Lizzy get up but suddenly she was beside him.

"It's me," she said quietly.

"And the baby?"

"My beautiful baby boy," she said as she took the picture from him and stared at it for a minute.

"I didn't know you had a kid," Gibbs said, examining again the picture of the baby.

"I don't. Not anymore."

Gibbs was almost sorry he asked. He couldn't imagine giving up his child for adoption. The circumstances must have been terrible, he thought.

"Jonathan David. He was beautiful and…" she let out a long sigh, "he was mine."

She put the pictures in the wallet and threw it back into her purse. She walked back over to the coffee table and started clearing off all the paint cards.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy," he said as he came up behind her and put his arms around her waist.

"There's nothing to be sorry about and don't apologize. Sign of weakness, remember?"

"Not always," he said softly, taking her hand and leading her to the back porch. The stars had just started popping out and he sat on the chaise lounge and pulled her down with him. She situated herself between his legs with her head against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath. His arms reached out in front of her and found her hands, intertwining her fingers with his. She wondered if she should tell him. She would have gotten around to it eventually. And she knew he would understand. He had lost Kelly. She had lost Jonathan. Yet another reason she felt so tied to him. She wanted him to know. And it had gotten easier over the years to talk about. Still… the pain never leaves. She took a deep breath and spoke.

"In 2001, I got pregnant. I think the father actually left before the blue lines even showed up on the test. He was scared. I was too."

She shifted a little in her seat and Gibbs continued to hold tight to her hands, knowing that this probably wasn't any easier for her to talk about than him talking about his girls.

"Mom and Dad were excited. Not thrilled, but excited." She paused and took a long deep breath. "When I was six months, I had terrible pains in my side. Turns out, I had appendicitis. They had to do emergency surgery or I would lose the baby."

Gibbs knew to listen, not talk.

"A month later, I hadn't felt the baby move in a couple of days, so I called the doctor. They did an ultrasound and couldn't detect a heartbeat."

He heard her voice catch and he let go of her hands to wrap his arms around her waist.

"So after 24 hours they induced labor and I delivered. It was a stillbirth. I was seven months to the day."

Gibbs sat a little straighter in the chair. He leaned in and buried his face in her neck. He felt the surge of his own loss coming quickly to his throat and tears threatened his eyes. She had lost a child. Just like he had. Another connection. Her pain was different. She didn't let it eat her alive. Like him.

"The hardest part was delivering a child that I knew would never cry, never scream, never take a breath… They put him in m arms and I waited and waited for him to cry. But it never came. Seven months and 30 some hours of labor and I walked out of that hospital empty handed."

She moved away from him and stood. She walked to the porch rail and looked up at the sky.

"He would have been 10 this year. I would have had a fifth grader."

Gibbs left the chair and came to stand next to her. She moved into his embrace and stared up at him.

"I got through it, Jethro. I grieve once a year and think about him the other 364."

"You would have made a good mother," Gibbs said as he brushed a wisp of hair from her face. "It wasn't your fault."

She gave him a curious look. He shrugged his shoulders.

"That's what they always told me…after the girls died."

"Did it make you feel any less guilty?"

"Nope. It actually made it worse," he said, pulling her closer to him, needing the warmth she always provided.

"It took me a few years to be at peace with what happened, to not be angry with God, to not be angry with myself…," she said. "The only thing that still floats around in my brain is a question that no one can answer."

"Is there anything anyone could have done?"

"No."

He tilted her face so their eyes met, and he held them there, waiting.

"I always wondered if the pain would have been any worse if I had just gotten to hear him cry one time. Take one breath. Smile at me one time. Would it still hurt the same?"

Gibbs almost answered her, knowing full well the pain that had ripped and tore his soul apart over the years. He had gotten 8 years of Kelly's life. He had memories, no matter how hard he tried blocking them. He couldn't imagine not even getting the chance to know your own child. But she had figured out a way to move on. To heal. A way to make the life she had now worth living. He still had yet to find that road. So he was silent.


	9. Chapter 9

_*****Disclaimer**_: see previous

The snow was swirling outside the large windows that encompassed NCIS. Lizzy had been walking back from the vending machines and stopped to stare at the white fluff that was falling. She heard the elevators open and a voice was singing White Christmas, Sinatra style. Tony came to stand next to her. He stared out the window and all of a sudden changed his tune.

"Snow…," he sang in a deep Bing Crosby voice. She smiled. It was one of her favorite songs from that movie. She followed his lead.

"Snow…"

"Snow…

"Snow…."

"Snow…," they both sang together with their arms spread wide. She grinned and they walked to their desks. Ziva and McGee were already at their desks starting on paperwork. Lizzy sat at her desk and smiled when she saw a small cat figurine in front of her keyboard. It was sitting on a post-it note that said 'Curiosity will get you everywhere'. She smiled and let her finger trace the outline of the cat. She picked up the note and the figurine and tucked them away in her purse. Three and a half months, she thought. She hadn't been with anyone in her 28 years that had made her feel like Gibbs had in these past three months. They understood each other. They understood the role that the job played. And so far they had been able to keep the two separate. So far. Lately, though, Lizzy had noticed a very small shift. She thought she noticed him taking extra precautions here and there just to make sure she was out of harms way. Extra precautions that had never been there before and certainly didn't need to be there now. She was part of a damn good team and didn't need him watching over her. She didn't need another father. Just because there was an age difference didn't mean that was the kind of relationship she was after. She understood the whole protection thing. Who wouldn't want to protect the ones they care about? She knew Ziva and Tony were the same way but they were partners. Long time partners. They knew each other backwards and forwards, on the job and off. They had it down to a science. But she wasn't Gibbs partner. She was his… His…. And for that she had no answer.

She had just began sifting through the emails on her computer when DiNozzo jumped up from his desk.

"Get your gear. Gibbs and Abby found him. And make sure you bring your boots."

"Boots? I, uh, I didn't bring my boots," McGee said as he stood, looking a little scared.

"Then you get to man the phones and hold down the fort, Probie Wan Kenobi," Tony said as he and the others headed or the elevator.

They met Gibbs at the car and piled in. He gave them the details of the location as they drove through the near whiteout conditions. Lizzy was a little concerned when she noticed that his speed was increasing instead of decreasing. The roads were covered with more than a few inches but she knew Gibbs would not stop until this killer, this crazy, whacked out son of a bitch was taken down, dead or alive. Gibbs white knuckled grip on the wheel even caused Tony to go slightly pale. It took them a half hour to reach the abandoned airstrip. They did a powerslide into the open area next to the hanger and unloaded. Guns drawn, they made their way to a side door. Gibbs motioned for Tony and Ziva to circle to the back entrance. Lizzy tested the door that was in front of her and Gibbs. It was unlocked. Must have a Gibbs complex, she thought with a smile. She pulled the door open quickly and Gibbs entered first, swinging his gun around to clear the area. But as she stepped inside she immediately figured out that that task was going to be easier said than done. There wasn't a plane in sight. Instead there were rows and rows of crates, stacked ten or fifteen high, zigging and zagging across the entire space. She looked at Gibbs and took a breath. He motioned her down a different path than him, but not before she caught the look in his eyes. The pure male urge to protect the one he loves, to the death if necessary. She didn't like that look. That was the kind of look that caused mistakes, she thought. She nodded at Gibbs and they proceeded forward. She tried to stay focused, tried to be aware of all that was around her. But if she looked left, she would hear a noise at the right. She looked ahead and could make out a figure. It looked like Ziva. But it was gone a half second later. She moved passed another set of crates and saw Gibbs far to her left. He nodded and pointed ahead. She put up a hand and kept moving. She moved a little faster now, gaining confidence. She looked again for Gibbs but could not find him. She saw Dinozzo fall back to cover Ziva. She saw the end of her crates up ahead and moved to secure that area. She cleared the right and swung to the left to see if Gibbs had cleared his side yet. In that second, she felt an arm around her neck and she reacted. She pounded her elbow into a gut and her attacker took the blow but never released her. Why, she thought. Why couldn't they have grabbed the trained Mossad ninja? How do they always know the weakest zebra in the herd? Her attacker slammed her hand into the hanger wall and her gun dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Her hands flew to the arm that encompasses her neck and tried, unsuccessfully, to pry it away. He was strong, she thought. She remembered his picture McGee had brought up on the plasma. He wasn't just strong, he was a beast. She wasn't even sure Ziva could take him down without taking a helluva beating. If only she'd had a better grip on her gun. But he had grabbed it and now it was trained on her, pressing hard against her left temple as he dragged her through a hallway and then out a door into the storm. The snow was blowing every which way and though it all she thought she heard a voice. She knew they would find her. She fought harder to get away. The gun barrel pressed harder into her temple. She knew she had to stop panicking and think. Kinda hard to do when there's a real good chance of being shot. Then the voices became real.

"NCIS. Drop your weapon," she heard Ziva yell.

But they kept moving. She kept dragging. Then came another voice. Gibbs. And she heard it all in his voice.

"Drop your weapon. NCIS. Stop and drop your weapon."

Her attacker stopped. He yanked her to her feet, never loosening the grip around her neck or the gun to her head.

"She will die. Leave me be or she will die," he said as they now stood facing Gibbs, Ziva, and Tony. Tony stepped forward and lowered his gun.

"You don't want to do this, man. She is an NCIS special agent. You let her go now and you'll walk out of here without any trouble from us."

What is he doing, she thought. This wasn't the greatest negotiating technique. Let the suspect go? Obviously the man with the gun to her head didn't think it was such a great technique either, she thought as she heard the click that signaled it was ready to fire. Tony dropped back to stand next to Gibbs. The snow was blowing fiercely now and though they were only hundreds of yards away, she could barely make them in the worsening conditions. This was it, she thought. Her mind raced. She had to get the grip loosened. She had to be able to speak. She reached down with her right hand and grabbed the family jewels and yanked. Hard. She had to hand it to the guy, He barely flinched. Either there wasn't that much there to start with or he had what every guy in America dreams of…balls of steel. But it was enough, just enough to get a grunt of pain from him and a slight loosening around her neck.

"Bomb on bus, Gibbs. Bomb on bus," she yelled as she was severely disciplined for her previous actions. This time he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back, gun still expertly trained right above her ear. She couldn't tell if he had heard or even understood. She was praying that if Gibbs hadn't caught the reference, maybe Tony would. And he did.

Gibbs heard her yelling through the wind and snow. He caught the words but couldn't figure out what the hell she was talking about. Then it hit him. The movie. Speed. Relationships based on intense circumstances… Shoot the hostage… He said it out loud the same time Tony did. Tony moved closer.

"Boss?" Tony said, a thin line of concern in his voice.

"No."

"No?"

"No, dammit. I'm not shooting the hostage. I'm not shooting Lizzy," Gibb said, with a thousand thoughts screaming through his mind. He couldn't shoot her. Not Lizzy. But she had told him to. She wanted him to. She knew that shooting her would solve the problem. But it wouldn't be a kill shot, he thought. He would wound her but leave her attacker free for the takedown. But still, he couldn't do it. He heard her yelling again and wondered what those screams were costing her. He took a deep breath and trained the gun at the two figures in the snow. He moved forward with Ziva and Tony on his five and seven. He stopped a hundred yards away and caught Lizzy's eye. He saw the fierceness in them. The determination. But he couldn't do it. The snow momentarily stopped, frozen in place, as did the rest of the world as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs hesitated.

***

She held his gaze for what seemed like eons. And then she saw it. She blinked to check herself. She witnessed the impossible. He hesitated. Gibbs. The man made of stone. The steely eyed, hard nosed, marine to the core…hesitated. She saw it in his eyes. She read the pain, the frustration, and she watched it keep him from making a decision. Because of her. Because of his feelings for her. I guess this is the reason for Rule #12, she thought, watching Tony and Ziva move ahead of Gibbs, ready to take the lead if necessary. Her mind was still doing double time. She had to figure a way to take the beast down. They needed him. Well, more to the point, they needed his testimony. He was the leading supplier to an arms dealer the likes of NCIS' favorite frog. What would Gibbs do, she thought. Scratch that. Gibbs had hesitated. What would Tony do? Tony would make some stupid movie reference and try to talk his way out of it. Wait. That was it. Movie reference, movie reference. Where had she seen this before? Then it came to her. She stared at Gibbs, hoping that he would understand what she was about to do. Praying that she would still have a job the next day. Praying that she would still have a life the next day. Her mind screamed at her not to do it. It wasn't the pain she was worried about. It was… it was…something that couldn't be reversed. Something she stood to lose if even the slightest move didn't go right. But she had to. It was her job. It's what she was trained to do.

It took only seconds to carry out the plan that had been forming in her mind. If Gibbs wouldn't take her out of the equation, she would taker herself out of it. In one swift move, she released her hands from her attackers arm and with both hands, reached for the gun that was aimed at her head. She pulled it to her chest and fired.

The bullet ripped and twisted, first through her, then her attacker. He held steady for a minute before dropping at her feet, blood seeping through his sweatshirt. The gun still in her hand, she looked down at the man on the ground. He was still alive, barely, looking up at her. Tony and Ziva came to stand next to her. She had the slightest hint of a smile as she spoke.

"Yippy ky yay, motherf******."

She dropped to her knees, then laid flat in the snow, the pain slowly gripping her body. It was a clean shot. She had made a clean shot through herself into the crazed maniac. Tony ripped off his jacket and pressed it to her wound. She looked around for Gibbs. He was still rooted to the same spot, gun in hand. She was waiting. Waiting for the explosion that she knew was coming. That would reduce her to nothing in his eyes. Ziva was already running to the hanger to call for ambulances. The storm had made it impossible to get a clear signal. Tony leaned over her, after securing the prisoner.

"You gonna make it, Bruce?" he said with a smile.

"Live Free or Die Hard," she said smiling back at him.

"That was crazy, you know."

"I know."

"And you do know that if you don't die from the gunshot wound, Gibbs is gonna kill you anyway."

"I know that too," she said as she shifted slightly. The blood seeping out of her back was leaving a crimson stain in the snow where she was laying. She closed her eyes and the reality of what just happened washed over her. Like a tidal wave, she began to think clearly. Oh, God, she thought. What have I done? What if I lose too much blood? What if I lose—

Her thoughts were interrupted as a shadow fell across her body. She opened her eyes to see ice crystals of blue staring back at her. He said nothing. She didn't expect him too. Tony had walked over to talk to Ziva and Lizzy thought she could hear the wail of a siren. Gibbs crouched down and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She started to feel sleepy. Am I supposed to feel sleepy, she thought. It must be the moonshine talking. But she hadn't had any moonshine. And that was her last thought as she drifted into unconsciousness.

Gibbs watched her as her eyes fluttered shut. He stood again, damning the ambulances for taking too long, damning the weather for making the ambulances take too long. He looked down at the growing pool of blood that was next to Lizzy. Damnit, he thought. What had she been thinking? He knew the answer. She had been doing her job. Something that he had been unable to do. He had frozen. Hesitated. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He heard the sirens and turned to watch the emergency vehicles move slowly across the airstrip that was blanketed in snow. He backed away as the EMT's unpacked their gear. He watched Lizzy as she lay on the ground. He watched her chest rise and fall. He remembered how it had felt to have her on top of him, skin to skin, feeling her chest rise and fall against his. He wanted to push the EMT's aside and gather her in his arms and hold her. Hold her until the pain went away. Until the wounds healed. But his anger got the better of him. It had won in the fight that had raged in his mind. He saw her eyes flutter open as they transferred both her and her attacker to the gurney's. Her eyes searched wildly for him. But they never found him. He had moved away quickly. He walked over to Tony and Ziva who were standing next to the ambulances.

"Will she be ok?" Ziva asked, worry lines crisscrossing her face.

Gibbs couldn't speak. He knew the question had been directed at him but the words wouldn't come. What if she wasn't ok? What if she left him like the others had? Shannon. Kate. Jenny. And now Lizzy. He watched the gurney carrying Lizzy move closer and closer. As the doors to the ambulance were opened, Gibbs met her eyes. She had found him. Finally. And she smiled. Damn her, he thought. What the hell was she smiling about? He couldn't do this. He wouldn't.

"Tony," he barked as Lizzy was lifted into the ambulance.

"Yea Boss?"

"In the ambulance with her."

When he hesitated, Gibbs voice got louder. "Now, Tony."

"No."

The voice had come from inside the ambulance. She was holding her stomach, trying to sit up as the medical personnel tried to restrain her.

"No," Lizzy said. "Not Tony… Ziva."

"Fine. Agent David," Gibbs said gesturing towards the vehicle. Ziva looked as puzzled as Tony but she shrugged her shoulders and stepped into the ambulance. She reached over and took Lizzy's hand. Lizzy nodded her head and closed her eyes.

A/N: This one ran a little long but I had a lot to get out and I'm still not done. Hope everybody's still as curious as the cat….


	10. Chapter 10

***_**Disclaimer**_: Own nothing. Wouldn't mind having Gibbs around for a while. I'd pay to watch the man sleep.

At home, in her own bed, Lizzy finally relaxed. She had fought and fought to get out of that hospital. She had not even waited for the discharge instructions or the pain medicine. There wasn't a medicine in the world save for death that could take her pain away. Because the pain wasn't physical. Sure, she had needed stitches and a sling and tons of gauze and bandages. The bruises on her face and neck were angry and swollen. But her mind ached for different reasons than her body. Her pain went deeper than she ever thought a human was capable of feeling. She had made it through this same pain once before but it had taken 10 years to get over. But this time it was her fault. She had made the decision to pull the trigger. It was the right decision at the time. She hadn't exactly had time to weigh the options, think it through. She hadn't counted on the extensive blood loss. She hadn't counted on loss, period. But it had come. She knew that she had to tell Gibbs. It was her obligation. It was his right to know. But Gibbs was not around. Since that day, since that moment when the trigger was pulled, he had been lost to her. She had made it quite clear that she hadn't wanted visitors, at least not at the hospital. She didn't want anyone to see her collapse. To see her at a loss. Maybe he didn't need to know, she thought. Her secret would be safe. Ziva was the only other person that knew. It would be safe. Ziva had understood and asked no questions. Maybe she wouldn't tell Gibbs. It seemed kind of pointless now.

Lizzy was tired. Tired of staying in bed all day. Tired of everyone calling to check on her. Tired of being home. Without him. It seemed like in the split second, the millisecond it took to pull that trigger, the world stopped. She thought it had stopped when Gibbs had refused to pull his trigger but it actually came to a screeching halt when she had pulled hers. She had not expected him to come to the hospital. She hadn't expected a phone call but two weeks later, she was wondering if she still even existed in his mind. Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe a nightmare, meant to torture. For three months she had had him. All to herself. The man. The myth. The legend. And she had enjoyed every last second. It wasn't love. No, not love but… but… If she was totally honest with herself there wasn't a word in the English dictionary that described what they had. She looked at the clock on the bedside table. Seven. In the morning. Usually she would just be finishing her run to be in the office by eight. Of course on Gibbs days, they stayed in bed until the last possible second before racing in, right on time. She smiled when she thought about the mornings Gibbs had been late. Gibbs was never late.

It was then that she decided. Pain or no pain, she was going back to work. Sitting around feeling sorry for herself had worked for a while but it was bordering on insanity. She showered, changed the dressing on her wound, dressed and slowly made her way to the car. She knew she would be stuck answering phones and cleaning up two weeks worth of paperwork but she couldn't take another day behind the walls of her house. Walls that seemed to close in a little more each day. The walls that screamed at her because they knew everything, saw everything. They knew her secret.

The elevator doors opened and Lizzy stepped back into her home. She stood for a minute, taking in the sounds, wondering why she had stayed away this long. She looked up to see a Nerf football come flying at her. She caught it at her chest and smile. So much for a grand entrance, she thought.

"And the one armed man returns…" Tony said as he stood and met her as she walked onto the bullpen. She handed him his football and smiled.

"She is a woman, Tony, really," Ziva said shaking her head.

"Ziva. The Fugitive? TV series then movie? Harrison Ford, Tommy Lee Jones? How many times do we have to go over this?" Tony looked almost hurt as he spoke.

The elevator pinged again and McGee stepped out carrying a tray full of coffee. He walked slowly to where they stood.

"Lizzy?" McGee said as Ziva and Tony both took their drinks from the carrier. "What are you doing back? I thought you couldn't come back for another two weeks."

"Well… the doctor… cleared me."

"Really?" McGee said as he set Gibbs coffee on his desk.

"Ummm… sure," Lizzy said as she moved to her desk, dropping her pack on the floor and dropping into her seat. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, she thought, pain washing over her as she sat. She shifted to find a comfortable position but there was none. So she stood and looked around. "Gibbs?" she asked to no one in particular.

"MTAC. Toothpick. National security," Tony said without even looking up from his computer.

Lizzy just nodded. She stepped over to Gibbs desk and picked up his coffee cup. Just like old times she thought. She caught Ziva watching her. She could read concern in her eyes. Lizzy just shook her head, hoping that the other woman would understand that she was fine. Or at least giving the performance of a lifetime to make it look that way. She again sat in her chair and tapped her computer to life. She knew that her report, though late, was expected. Having to remember every detail, every nuance of the day… She had relived it over and over in her mind, day after day. Nothing about it changed. Not the way she had cleared first the right then the left. Not the way Gibbs had looked at her when he hesitated. Not the thoughts that had run through her mind when she fired the gun against herself. She began typing, slow at first, and quicker as the memories came back to her. She didn't notice the man on the balcony. She didn't feel the icy blues staring at her, willing her to look up. She didn't see him walk down the stairs and she definitely did not notice him as he walked to her desk.

He had stood on the balcony, watching her. Her hair was down. That was the only thought processing in his mind. Her hair, the same hair his face had been buried in, that had splayed across his chest, had twisted around his fingers… He couldn't believe she was back already. He had sent specific orders for her to take her three weeks, more if she needed. He wasn't ready for her to be back. He had stayed away from her on purpose. Because his feelings for her had almost cost her Lizzy her life. He gripped the railing tighter, the blood draining out of them. He needed more time. More time to figure this out. He had sanded parts of his boat down to toothpicks thinking about her. Every time he closed his eyes it was a different image. The way she looked in the morning when she first woke up. The way her body moved as she worked on his boat. The way her satin skin felt against his. He remembered her lips, the way she would tease a kiss out of him. He remembered her nails as they left marks up and down his back. He remembered her legs wrapping around his waist in bed, in the shower, in the garage, in the kitchen…He took a deep breath and started down the stairs. She wasn't going to like him very much after this.

"I thought I told you to stay home," Gibbs said, as he stood looking down at her.

Lizzy looked up from her computer, not entirely liking the tone of Gibbs voice. She stood slowly, pain shooting through her body. Standing at her full height, she met his eyes. For once, she knew what he was thinking. And she didn't like it.

"_**You**_ didn't tell me anything, Agent Gibbs. _**You **_sent a message. I don't take orders from messenger boys."

"We need to talk."

There, he had said it. The famous talk. He could feel the eyes of Tony, Ziva, and McGee boring holes into his back. They could feel the tension. Hell, probably anyone within a 5 mile radius could feel it, taste it.

"So talk," Lizzy said, her gaze never wavering.

"In the conference room. Now."

"No."

"No?"

"Check the battery in the hearing aid, Gibbs. I didn't stutter."

Damn. He'd never seen her mad. Pissed maybe but never mad. Angry. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, he thought.

"I wasn't asking you to go to the conference room, Agent Edwards. I was telling."

Tony and Ziva exchanged glances and McGee shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The tension just kept building.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say right here. If it's such a _personal_ matter, you should have made a _personal_ visit," Lizzy said as she leaned across her desk, invading Gibbs personal space.

He never flinched. He never backed up. He leaned forward until there was barely inches between them. His voice was low.

"This isn't going to work Lizzy," Gibbs said as searched her eyes for an immediate reaction. He didn't get one.

"This?"

"Us."

She pulled back and stood. "This is my Dear John letter?"

That got the attention of the rest of the team, as they peeked their heads around their computers.

"The cat died, Lizzy. Deal with it."

Tony looked at Ziva. Ziva looked at Tony. The cat? they mouthed to each other. Gibbs started to walk away as Lizzy rounded the corner of her desk. She reached out with her good arm and grabbed him by the back of the jacket. She spun him around in the niddle of the bullpen and stepped once again into his personal bubble. She was pressed against him. Chest to chest. His mind started screaming at him to reconsider. She was too close. He had to get away. The bathroom, the lab, autopsy. Anywhere but here. He started to back away but she grabbed him again. Grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket. They both flashed back to her boat. But she wouldn't let him go. She pulled him back to her. Her eyes met his.

"No."

"No?"

"No I will not deal with it. You want to leave me? Then you leave me because of this," and she pressed her hand to his chest first, then hers, then back to his.

They had the attention of not only the bullpen now but of the entire NCIS. But she didn't care. She didn't care if they were broadcasting over the internet, through MTAC…

"You leave me because this passion, this intensity, this power no longer gets you off. You _don't_ leave me because you don't have the balls to do your job."

Gibbs voice raised only slightly when he spoke.

"I did my job."

"No Gibbs, you hesitated. And everyone there that day knows it. You failed your team, you failed yourself," she paused and stepped back to look at him, "and you failed me.

He said nothing as he grabbed her arm and attempted to lead her to the elevator. She stood her ground, unmoving, unflinching.

"I meant what I said, Gibbs. I lost a lot that day, but I sure as hell didn't expect to lose you, too," she said as he walked to the elevator without her. He stepped into the elevator and the doors closed.

_**A/N**_: Few more chapters and the cat will have officially been killed.


	11. Chapter 11

_*****Disclaimer**_: see previous

After the elevator doors closed, Lizzy stood for a full minute, trying desperately to compose herself. She was shaking slightly, more out of anger than anything else. She turned on her heel to return to her desk and ran head on into a Marine Sgt. The papers that were in his hands fluttered to the ground. Lizzy felt pain shoot through her left arm as she stepped back. She knelt down to help the Marine gather up his papers, apologizing profusely. When the papers had all been collected, they stood.

"Again, I'm really sorry. It's been…a day," Lizzy said as she looked up at the broad shouldered Marine.

"That bad?"

"And it's only 10am."

"I hope it gets better for you, Agent…?"

"Edwards. Sorry. Agent Elizabeth Edwards but most people call me Lizzy," she said as she smiled at him.

"Nice to meet you Agent Edwards. I'm Sgt Rivers. Mike Rivers," he said, extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sgt. Rivers. And again I'm sorry about running you over."

"Not a problem. I hope the rest of your day goes better than your morning," he said, slowly letting go of her hand. He smiled at her and made his way to the elevators.

She made it to her desk and sank slowly into her chair. Tears welled up in her eyes. She forced them back. This was neither the time nor the place. Dammit Gibbs, she thought. What had she done? She should have followed him to the elevator, heard what he had to say. But why? It would have been the same conversation, only in a darkened conference room. She had waited two weeks for him. Two weeks to see him. Two weeks to hear his voice. The look had been in anger. The voice had been in anger. And this wasn't her fault. Ok, it was part her fault. She had wanted it just as much as Gibbs. She had wanted the late nights, the early mornings. She had wanted the blue eyes, the silver hair, the tan hands and the coffee that the hands carried. She hadn't said no. She had let curiosity get the better of her. She now understood why the cat had nine lives.

The elevator doors opened and Gibbs stepped into autopsy. Actually, he stepped into the small hallway looking into autopsy. He had needed some air, some room to breathe. She had accused him of… of… The more he paced, the angrier he got. Angry at himself for letting her in. Into his mind, into his bed, and into his heart. His heart? No, he thought. Not his heart. He was too guarded to let anyone tear down that wall. That brick made, concrete enforced, surrounded by stone, wall. But she had. In spades. But now? She had been right. He had hesitated. He had put the team at risk. He had put her at risk. He slammed his fist against the wall. The sound echoed back to him. This ache inside of him had been growing inside of him since that shot was fired. Since he had seen the pool of blood. Since… since he hadn't been able to bring himself to call her, to see her. He fought with his mind. God, he wanted her. All of her. With him. And he had had that. And now it was gone. There was no reversing it, no changing his mind. And so he had to live with his decision. But the voices in his head kept giving him internal head slaps. With Shannon and Kelly he hadn't had a choice. They were gone without his permission. He hadn't been involved in that decision. This decision he had control over. This decision he had made. He could fix it. He could make it better. He could wake up tomorrow with his face buried in her sweet smelling, long, brown hair. He could wake up tomorrow with her naked warmth pressed against his. Or he could let the decision stand and wake up to a cold and empty bed. Again.

***

Back in the bullpen, a stony silence had developed. Tony, Ziva, and McGee wanted to say something. They weren't even sure if they were allowed to speak at this point. What they had just witnessed was unprecedented. Gibbs. Lizzy. Once the team gave it a couple of seconds of thought, they were able to piece it together. They could almost even pinpoint when it all started. When Gibbs demeanor had softened. When the coffee wasn't the only thing that got him through the day. When he had started arriving just a minute or two late. And now it was over. They had witnessed the breakdown of their leader. They had watched him hesitate. And now they would pay for his mistakes. He would come striding back into the bullpen spitting nails. The next few months, possibly even years would be downright miserable and they knew it. But they had gotten through it before. With Kate, with Jenny… This might be worse though. Lizzy was still here and from the looks of it, she wasn't going anywhere, orders or not.

The day passed in silence. Cold, grating, nails-on-a-chalkboard silence. It couldn't end soon enough. Lizzy had rethought her returning to work theory a million times since the blowout with Gibbs but she knew if she ran now, he won. And it wasn't a game necessarily but she wanted to prove to him that this wasn't affecting her work. That he could rip her heart out and do the Mexican hat dance on it and her work would not suffer. Of course, she'd be lying to herself but it sure sounded good. And she knew it would be hard. Damn hard. And if it got too hard, she'd figure something out. But she had to do something to keep the memories from invading her mind. To keep the pain at bay. She had to have something to focus on. Her screen beeped at her. She dragged her attention to her computer. A new IM had popped up. Ziva. Offering drinks after work. She looked over at Ziva and smiled. She sent a message back and Ziva understood. Pain was easier to work through by yourself, in your own space, where nobody can see the tears. Ziva, if anyone, understood that. Lizzy finished the report and printed it out. She stapled it together and put it in a folder. She turned the computer off and stood slowly. She ran her hand through her hair. She had left it down, not for him, but because her arm hurt too much when she tried to put it up. She grabbed her pack and her report and moved around her desk. She dropped her report in the middle of Gibbs desk as she walked by, never bothering to look at him. He never looked up. Tony and Ziva exchanged glances.

At home, she changed into more comfortable clothing. Sweats and a tee. He arm ached as she pulled the shirt over her head. She flopped onto the couch and made a half assed attempt to watch tv but she knew. In the back of her mind, she knew it was time. Time to start another boat. There was enough pain inside of her to make a bigger than one than last time. Maybe that's why Gibbs boats filled his entire basement. She grabbed her phone and headed to the garage.

Gibbs had stayed at the office until there was no one left. He had finished all his work long ago but hadn't wanted to leave. It was just easier to stay. Home reminded him of her. Work reminded him of her. Hell, the damn vending machines, with their little packs of M & M's, even laughed at him every time he walked by. He couldn't go anywhere without seeing her face, hearing her voice, feeling her brush up against him, feel her lips on his. His head dropped into his hands and he let out a deep sigh.

In the garage, she found her starting pieces, stacked neatly in a dusty pile in the far corner, left by her father. He had known. He had known that someday she would need to build another one, with or without him there. She slowly pulled the pieces over to the sawhorses. She went over to the cabinets and took out one shot glass and one mason jar. She walked over to the stereo she had put in after her father had died. He only worked with the radio but she had to have music that fit her mood. She sifted through her cd's until she came to her 'life is shitty' collection. Her favorite angst ridden rock songs that always seemed to help her sink even further into her misery. You gotta start somewhere, she thought to herself. She poured herself a drink, grabbed a piece of sandpaper and hit play.

At home, in the basement, he sat down with his paintbrush and stared at the boat. It stared back. So he stared harder. He wasn't sure what he was hoping would happen. After a few minutes, he stood and walked slowly around the boat, not so much interested in what it looked or felt like but intrigued by what it knew. It knew him. It knew her. This was their passion. This was where their passion had begun. Against the curve of the boat. God, he missed her. He walked over to the shelf and pulled out a bottle. He dumped nails out of a jar, blew it out and filled it. Then drained it. Then filled it again. He had been drinking more lately, even though he knew it would solve nothing. She hadn't given him a chance to explain himself. She had refused to talk to him. He knew he should have had the conversation before she returned to work but that would have meant seeing her. Making the tortuous drive to her house, his mind screaming at him the whole way. His heart begging him not to go, not to speak the words that had to, in his mind, be spoken. And then being there, with her. His mind would have etched the rooms to memory. Engrained them in his thoughts. Her image forever burning against his thoughts making it impossible to sleep, eat, or form any type of coherent thought process. But he hadn't done it. He had stayed secluded to his basement, to his desk, to his past. Anger burned inside of him. Every woman he had cared about had been ripped away, torn from his soul. But he had done this one to himself. He had shredded this relationship out of what? Fear? Guilt? He threw the bottle at the wall and it shattered. The glass reached the far corners of the basement. He grabbed his coat, the glass crunching under his feet, and walked to the stairs.

The music screamed into her brain, echoed through her body. She guided the sandpaper back and forth across the wood. This isn't working, she thought. I can't make it stop this time. Her mind was pulling pain from the physical, the emotional…She stood up and walked to the stereo. She turned the volume button up and walked over to the workbench where her glass stood, waiting. She poured another shot and set the jar down. Her hand shook as she reached for the glass. She slammed her hand flat against the wooden table. This isn't happening she thought. I won't let it. I've gotten through worse. Much worse. Maybe…maybe I can't do this. She slammed her hand down again. She grasped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. She picked up the mason jar and threw it across the room, hearing the glass shatter. She gave an involuntary shiver as she turned back to pick up her glass. She took the shot and let it soothe her mind. And then she felt it. Not it. Him. She felt him as soon as he entered the room. She wondered how much of her scene he had witnessed. It didn't matter. Why the hell was he here, she thought. Wasn't today enough? Wasn't every day from now on going to be enough? She turned to face him.

_**A/N:**__ Ok short chapter. Ok not even a chapter. A little Gibblet to get through till my daughter returns to school and I can have the time to write complete, mind blowing chapters. Sorry for the wait…_


	12. Chapter 12

***Chapter 12

She hit the pause button on the stereo and leaned her back against the workbench.

"Dear John letters don't usually have a P.S. at the end," she said, breaking the silence as she stared at him across the sawhorses.

"Didn't come to give you one."

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze unflinching. She pushed away from the table and slowly walked around to stand in front of him. He lifted his hand from his side and pushed a sweatshirt at her.

"You left this."

She looked at the shirt. Her Redskins hoodie. She had figured it for gone or destroyed. She took it from him and laid it across the wood next to her.

"I suppose you want your shirt back, then?"

He didn't answer quick enough and he hadn't even noticed the shirt she had on. It was his, of course. Black with 'Semper Fi' emblazoned across the front. She crossed her arms in front of her and grabbed the bottom edge of the shirt. She took it slowly over her head. She knew the reaction she would get. It would be pure lust. Then he would notice the bruises and lust would quickly fall away. She had a simple white bra on underneath. Wal Mart was good for simple. But it didn't matter. She got the reaction she wanted. She heard his quick intake of breath, his chest rising and falling faster as his pulse quickened. He still wanted her as much as she wanted him. She had just wanted to prove her theory… She felt his gaze rake across her skin as she moved to pull her sweatshirt on. He didn't stop her. But he did step closer. He lifted the bottom of her shirt only slightly. Just enough to see the bruises that splayed across her pelvis. He touched them gently and this time she gasped.

All Gibbs had seen was her naked skin. And then the bruises. His arousal had lasted only seconds. He hadn't realized the extent of her injuries. Pain stabbed his heart. He should have come sooner. He should have been man enough to talk to her. He had come over tonight to… to… return her sweatshirt. To finish the conversation he had started in the bullpen. To run his hands across the smooth expanse of her stomach. To kiss her neck until there was a mark that claimed her as his. He still wanted her. He knew it. She knew it. But the look in her eyes as he leaned down to claim her lips gave him chills. And not the good kind. He kissed her with all the intensity that was in his body. With the passion that was hers and hers alone. The passion that he had given to no other woman save for Shannon. Her mouth was hot under his. Her lips were soft under hisbruising kiss. He knew he was being rough but he needed her to know what was inside of him . The words that he couldn't speak. He apologized with this kiss. She felt it. All of it. But forgiveness was not going to come so easily.

She slowly pulled away from the kiss, but not from him. She met his eyes and saw the desire that made them even bluer than the oceans. She knew that desire. She had felt that desire. Matter of fact, that desire was poking her in the leg at that very moment. And that's when she almost broke. She almost caved. Knowing that no matter what words might have come out of his mouth, his body couldn't lie. She ached to be with him tonight. In his bed. In her bed. His arms wrapped around her tightly. The kisses on her neck that were always her undoing. The ones he was pressing on her nape right now. She pushed away but he held her to him. He held her as if the world was going to end. As if this was the end for them. He found her mouth again, this time softly, lightly. She pushed away again and he relented. She stepped back and put her hands on her hip, looking down. She shook her head.

"This isn't going to work," she said as her eyes met his.

"Isn't that my line?" he said, attempting to bring some humor to the moment.

"I mean it, Jethro. We can't do this."

"Do what?"

"This."

"You lost me," he said shaking his head and reaching out his hand to her.

"Yeah. I did," she said quietly. "Large time."

He gave a small smile at her reference to Ziva's American idiom. But he watched her face as she moved back around to the workbench. He watched emotions flit across it and saw the pain finally surface.

"You can't keep flipping the switch, Jethro."

"Didn't think I was."

"You haven't been wearing your glasses lately have you?"

"My glasses?"

"Yea. Your glasses. Because maybe if you'd been wearing them you'd have seen this hot and cold game you've been playing. Hindsight is 20/20 you know."

" I don't play games."

"Then explain it to me. Explain this love 'em and leave 'em routine you've got going here."

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably as he stood staring at the woman that he needed so desperately. He had come to fix what he had done and here they were arguing again. He knew he was a bastard but…why was she being so difficult? They had never argued before. They appreciated each other. They recognized what made the other strong and more importantly what made the other weak. He met her eyes as she spoke again.

"You left me, remember? You did this."

"Not without help I didn't."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean," she said, her voice rising.

He took a deep breath and let it out. "I didn't tell you to shoot yourself."

"Well you sure as shit weren't going to do it."

"I shouldn't have needed to do it. You let yourself become a hostage. You were trained better than that. You're a better agent than that."

"I let myself get taken hostage? I think bastard would be a little redundant at this point, don't you think?"

He stared at her. She met his gaze and he saw the fire in them begin to spark.

"You know what?" she said coming to stand in front of him. He raised an eyebrow but never spoke.

"You're right."

"I'm right?" he said, trying to hide his surprise. He was always right, he knew, but seldom did anyone ever admit it to him.

"I am a better agent than that," she said, lowering her voice slightly. "I actually let myself get taken hostage so you would be forced to hesitate. Then I would be forced to shoot myself. Then you would be forced to leave me. I devised this whole thing just to let you down easy."

"You think this is easy?" he said, his eyes beginning to match hers.

"Well it sure as hell doesn't look hard from where I'm standing."

"Look harder."

"I have been looking harder, Gibbs. And you know what I realized?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"That I compete with ghosts."

He stared at her. "Ghosts?"

"Jenny."

She saw him draw a quick breath. He didn't know she knew.

"And Kate."

Kate. His Katie girl. That one had been a secret too. Polaroids flashed in his mind. Kate's eyes, melted chocolate. The dimple when she gave him that smile. The other dimple that just happened to be right next to her infamous tattoo. The way she looked after a night spent pressed against him, her naked form so smooth against his. And look how it had ended. And Lizzy wondered why he had to stop this thing.

"And Shannon."

The pain in his heart all of a sudden grew worse with the mention of her name. Strawberry hair, tall and beautiful, loving. She still affected him. She still owned him. And for now, she still owned his heart.

"I compete with ghosts," Lizzy repeated. "Every moment, every second that we're together. Every thought you have of me is compared with one of them."

And for that he had no response. He knew she was right. The women that he had lost would always be compared with the ones standing in front of him. It wasn't an intended action. His brain acted almost of its own volition and he was powerless to stop it. Or maybe he didn't want to.

"I…I don't… I don't know what…" he said but couldn't finish.

"Gibbs," she said reaching down to take his hand in hers. Their fingers interlocked and she squeezed it tightly. "I want to be a part of your life. Even a small part, but I will not, I refuse to be, second in your life. I want to come first. Right now I'm at least fourth on the list."

She was right again. Damn, he hated admitting that. He had put the others before her. There was no way to take it back. No way to change the way his mind filtered memories. Those months, weeks, days, hours, seconds…The time that they had spent together. He wanted to redo those moments with her but knew that nothing would change. He would still act the same, react the same, and push her away the same way. He felt her squeeze his hand again.

"Thanks for bringing my sweatshirt."

"Yea."

She looked up at him. She felt the tears coming and didn't want him to be around when they fell. She found his eyes and wondered if any of this was actually affecting him. Her brain screamed at her to let him stay. To make him stay. But she couldn't. She couldn't risk the possibility of another Bruce Willis induced gun battle. That's when he would leave her again. He made that rule #12 because he had known. He had known first hand how it would affect them and yet… and yet he had risked it all anyway. To be with her. To feel that insane sensation of falling, falling… to have someone there…

He looked down at her and realized that he'd be sleeping in his own bed tonight. Alone. He knew it was his fault. He also knew that no amount of words would bring the warmth back to him at night. He had to find a way to break away from the demons. He needed to keep the good memories for a bad day and make new ones with Lizzy. But the faces haunted him. He had loved them. All of them. Loved each one differently. And now they were all keeping him from happiness. Funny how the happiest times of your life could keep you from actually being happy. He leaned down to kiss her and she met him halfway. She raised her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer. She gave a whimper as he deepened the kiss. She let him explore her mouth until tears reached her eyes. She couldn't take it any longer and broke away. She turned away quickly and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her hoodie. She walked to the workbench, never turning around.

"Work? Tomorrow?"

"Yea."

He walked out the side door of the garage, pulling it shut behind him. She didn't relax until she heard the click of the doorknob. She reached over and hit the play button and cranked the volume until her thoughts were washed away by the words. She shook her head at the irony of the song. It was almost comical if she wasn't so damn miserable.

***

_**A/N:**_ So if anybody was wondering what the songs were on Lizzy's 'life is shitty because of men' cd, here is the playlist.

Let Me Go – _3 Doors Down_8.) After All – _Saving Abel_

Better Than Me – _Hinder_9.) Addicted – _Saving Abel_

Lips of an Angel – _Hinder_10.) Wherever You Will Go – _The Calling_

Collide – _Howie Day_11.) Pain – _3 Days Grace_

You and Me – _Lifehouse_12.) Here Without You – _3 Doors Down_

All I Need – _Mat Kearney_13.) When I'm Gone _– 3 Doors Down_

Hate That I Love You – _Rhianna_


	13. Chapter 13

***Disclaimer: see previous

The weeks ticked by. The days dragged by. The hours never seemed to go quick enough. She checked her watch again as if the thirty seconds that had passed since the last time she checked had magically turned into months. The daily grind had turned into the daily nightmare. She was trying to be strong, fight against the urges that overcame her when Gibbs was around. She had moved on. Ok, not so much but she had tried. Marine Sgt. Rivers had asked her to dinner a week ago and she had accepted. It had been two and a half months since the trigger had been pulled. Two and a half months since he had ended it. Two and a half months since she had lost everything. Everything. And she wanted it all back. Day after day she showed up and went through the motions. But it was becoming ever more clear that this situation wasn't going to get any better. Matter of fact it might actually get a whole helluva lot worse before it even had a chance of getting better.

Her side was hurting her again. She had ignored it for a while but the pain seemed stronger today. When this case is over, she thought, I will see a doctor. But not until this one is over. And it was a doozy. They had the guy pinpointed to one area but couldn't, through various daily surveillances, get the guy doing anything worse than jaywalking. And the worst part of the day was yet to come. It was her turn on surveillance. With Gibbs. They hadn't been in a confined space for more than thirty seconds since he had walked out of her garage. She checked her watch again. Twenty more minutes before she had to leave. What the hell, she thought. She might as well leave now. Why prolong the inevitable? She slipped on her Redskins hoodie to stave off the cool March wind, grabbed her gear and headed for the elevator.

Gibbs checked his watch again. Then ten seconds later. And thirteen seconds after that. He was not looking forward to this. Alone in a posh hotel suite with Lizzy. Ok, to be perfectly honest, he was looking forward to every last tension filled second of it. He missed her. God, he missed everything about her. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. He saw her smile. The after-sex smile. The I-kicked-your-ass-in-bowling smile. The I-just-called-your-bluff smile. The after-sex-in-the-shower smile. His mind was beginning to set a pattern when someone knocked on his window. He looked up to see the blue eyes that he'd been missing. His heart started beating a thousand times faster than normal. His throat constricted. She gave a little shake of the hands to show him coffee. Wonderful, hot, saving grace coffee. But she had two cups. They had stopped sharing coffee three months ago. He missed that too. It was always such a simple thing. A non intimate gesture that always felt intimate to him. He opened the door as she backed up. He took the coffee and lifted it to his lips. He let the effects reach his brain and he looked at her.

"Good coffee."

"Yea well. I know a guy." She gave a small smile as she spoke. Her attempt at breaking the ice.

He popped the trunk and grabbed his bag. They were relieving Tony and Ziva and all the equipment had been set up for days. The elevator ride was slow and silent. They reached the room and Tony answered the door. His face was slightly flustered and lipstick graced the collar of his shirt. Gibbs strode past him to the window where the camera was set up. Lizzy caught Ziva's eye and they exchanged looks. Once again, as she had many times before, she brushed off the look of concern in Ziva's eyes. She was fine. Well, only ok at best. Well maybe a little less than ok but only when she wasn't having cramps. As she was now. And it wasn't even her time but she had been spotting lately and the pain had intensified over the last few weeks. She put it out of her head. They had work to do. Ziva and Tony left in a hurry, not wanting to stick around for the fireworks display that was bound to explode sooner rather than later. They settled in to what could only be described as a very uncomfortable silence. She set up her laptop on the coffee table in the living area. He focused his attention on the camera, occasionally switching to binoculars. They both tried vigorously to ignore the king size bed that was less than fifty feet from them both. But she couldn't ignore it. It kept drawing her eyes back. She looked over at it longingly, trying to picture them in it. Naked. The black satin sheets cool against her skin. Running her hands across his chest. Raking her nails down his back. Screaming out his name when release finally came. His voice broke into her thoughts.

"Lizzy." Not so much of a question as a statement.

She gave him a questioning look.

"You're drooling," he said with a smirk as the heat rose to her cheeks.

She knew she wasn't but she knew she had been caught. But so what? This thing between them was over. Doomed before it ever began. She smiled at him, glad for a break in the silence.

"You want a snack,"she asked. "There has to be something edible in that kitchen."

"Not if Tony just left. You might find a carrot. On the last shelf. If you're lucky."

He watched her as she stood and made her way to the fridge. He didn't miss the fact that she took the longer route just so she could trace her fingers across the bed. The satin rippled as it left her fingertips and he was mesmerized. He wanted to be with her in that bed. He wondered what she would feel like wrapped in satin. Ah-ah, his mind gave him a head slap. That's how this whole damn mess got started. Curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat. But the cat does have nine lives, right? He wondered how many they would dock him if he ravaged her in the best sense of the word. If he dropped kisses on a path from her lips to her neck to her navel… If he entered her roughly and felt her buck in response…If her screams were to match his…

"Now who's drooling?" she quipped as she threw a dish towel towards him. "You might need this."

The towel fell at his feet without him even making an attempt. She walked over and sat on the floor behind the coffee table, a slice of pizza on the napkin she was carrying. She punched a couple of buttons as she took a few bites of the Italian delicacy.

"Anything else besides pizza?"

"A coupla bags of chips, some candy, and some grapes." She reached for her coffee as he moved toward the kitchen, not daring to look at the bed. She checked her emails as he scoured the cabinets and fridge for something… anything.

"Abby sent us something, Gibbs," she said, her mouth full of pizza.

He finally grabbed a few things off the counter and walked over to the couch. He sat down and his knee brushed against her elbow. Her arm stiffened in response. In fact, her whole body stiffened. He saw her tense and absentmindedly began rubbing her shoulder with his right hand. His left hand dumped out the contents of his snack onto the coffee table. As he began separating his snack, green from every other color in the bag, he continued to massage her tired shoulders. At first she didn't mind. She almost fell right back to that place. That crazy, mixed up, Alice through the rabbit hole place that she always ended up in when she was around him. She reached her hand up to rub the spot his hand had just left. Instead he captured her hand and held it in place. He leaned in and started nuzzling her neck, knowing that it was the wrong thing to do before his lips ever met skin. But he didn't care. The world fell away as he pulled the hair tie and let the tresses fall in front of him. He inhaled slowly. He had missed her. Missed this. The closeness. The intermingling of scents.

"Oh, Lizzy…," he said as he buried his face in her hair.

And that did it. That snapped her back to reality. This wasn't happening. Not again. She wouldn't let herself be set up again. She extracted herself from his grasp and walked over to the window. She checked the camera, giving herself a minute to cool off. His touch reminded her of everything she could never have. Everything he would never give her. She had broken the contact out of a selfish need to save herself.

"There's that damn switch again, Jethro."

He shook his head, feeling out of sorts with her no longer next to him. He had done it again. He could hear it in her voice. The pain. The ache. The anger. The frustration.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" She wanted to hit him. Hard. Slap him around a little bit. Give him back every ounce of pain that he had caused her. And then maybe she'd kick him. For good measure.

"I'm not doing it on purpose, ya know."

She shook her head. "Then why are you doing it?"

Because he wanted to feel alive again, his mind screamed, hoping that she would hear him. Because he needed her in order to exist as a normal human being. Because she was what got him through the day. But he was silent. He knew nothing he could say would make her feel better, would make it right. She walked over to him, invaded his personal bubble and repeated the question.

"Why?"

"I don't know Lizzy. When I figure it out, I'll let you know." He knew it was the bastard in him talking but he couldn't help it.

"That's not good enough, Gibbs. What are you so damn afraid of?"

He stood fully then and looked her straight in the eye.

"I am not afraid, Agent Edward," his voice now steel and grating.

"Oh so it's Agent Edwards, now?"

He brushed past her to give a look through the video camera, making sure they weren't missing anything important.

"You're afraid, Gibbs."

"I told you before—I am not-"

"Afraid. Yea I heard it too. But how do you explain the hesitation? How do you justify locking yourself away in your basement with only a tape player and a Strawberry Shortcake lunchbox and a bunch of ghosts to keep you company? You're gonna die in that basement, Gibbs. Alone."

She could see the muscles in his jaw contract. She watched pain hit his features and waited for it. The explosion that never came. He was silent. He leaned down again to look through the camera. "But at least you'll be with the ones that matter most to you in life."

She saw him take a deep breath. She watched as he noted something in his memo pad and set it on the coffee table.

"You're afraid of losing again. All the women in your life disappear."

He continued to stare out the window, still without words.

"You remember when I told you when we started this that I wasn't asking you to love me? Yea well…. You didn't send me that same memo."

There. She had said it. In a roundabout way she had admitted it. Admitted what had been eating her alive for weeks…months…Admitted the reason for what she was about to tell him.

"I'm leaving too, Gibbs."

She saw his body stiffen. That was the only reaction she got.

"I put in for a transfer. I'm not leaving NCIS, just your team." She took a breath. "I will be the new agent afloat aboard the USS Enterprise."

His stomach turned and twisted. His heart took that knife that had been stuck in it and drew it in deeper, twisting and turning it the further down it went. His mind stopped functioning. Leaving. She was leaving. Gone just like the others. He finally turned to face her. She raised her hand and split her fingers into a 'V'.

"Live long and prosper," she said with barely a smile.

"How long?"

"Two weeks from today."

He repeated himself. "How long?"

"Indefinitely."

He stared at her now wondering if it was his mind playing tricks on him, or just his ears. She wasn't really leaving. Was it really that bad? She was a vital part of the team. He didn't want to replace her. He shouldn't have to replace her. He should step down. It was his fault it had gotten this far. She must have read his eyes.

"There's no changing it. Vance signed my orders this morning." She sat on the couch and began twisting the dishtowel that was beside her. She met his eyes once more and they were stained so blue they were black.

"It's no one's fault. We were both curious Gibbs. We both jumped in feet first and got caught in the undertow."

He stared at her for a while before taking his coffee cup to the sink and dumping ¾ of it into the sink. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

"I need more coffee."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't a statement. It was a man that needed to escape before a single tear fell. The door slammed behind him as his mind began damning that god blessed cat to hell for all eternity.

A/N: Still not done…


	14. Chapter 14

***Disclaimer: see previous

He stepped into the cool night air and took a deep breath. He started to walk, not entirely sure where he was going or where he'd eventually end up. He just knew he had to walk. Away from the hotel. Away from her. Away from what she had told him. She had admitted love. To him, for him. His mind was playing ping pong with his thoughts. She couldn't love him. They had only been together for three months. That was less than he and Hollis had been together and he had never figured out what it was he had felt for her. Something had tugged at his heartstrings when she was around but it never got much further after she retired. He had let her go and she had stopped pushing. She had stopped altogether. So Lizzy couldn't love him. Because he didn't love her. He didn't. He couldn't. But why not? What was holding him back? He hadn't felt this way since Shannon. It had been years. More than years. It had been a lifetime ago. The ex-wives had just been distractions, the ex girlfriends a way to pass the time. But Lizzy was different. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he could see being with her for a very long time. And that scared him. It scared him that she had been able to penetrate the place where only one other woman had. And he had been fighting it. Fighting it with all the strength he could muster ever since that first day. And he had wanted her then just as much as he did now. But she was leaving. No, not leaving. Running. Running hard and fast away from him. Away from what they had.

He kicked a rock in front of him and without looking up, he heard it hit against metal. He looked up to see a large iron gate off to his right. He walked up to it and put his hands on the cool metal bars in front of him. Through the darkness he saw a cemetery. He shook his head at the irony. She had accused him of only keeping company with ghosts and here he was, staring into a graveyard. He stared hard into the night, his mind wandering. Thinking about all those he had lost. And the one he was about to lose. Why couldn't he get past the pain? Why couldn't he shake the demons that constantly whispered in his ear? Lizzy had said something about her son. What had she said? That she grieved once a year and thought about him the other 364. He wondered how she had gotten to that point. The point where the pain is dissipated but not forgotten. Where thoughts are good memories to get you through a bad day. He needed that. She could give him that. He needed to let go of the guilt because the guilt was what held him back. Shannon, Jenny, Kate. He had been unable to keep them from dying. He had been powerless. He shook the gate in frustration. Then he kicked it. Now he had pain in his heart and in his foot. He had to find a way to make all the pain disappear. Or at least find a way to store it so that it stopped interfering with what made him truly happy. Her. He turned on his heel, coffee long forgotten, and made his way back to the hotel.

***

It was all consuming. She consumed his thoughts. His actions. His words-or lack thereof. He was living off of caffeine and whiskey. And why not? He'd done it time after time in the past. Why break the pattern now. The thoughts-the all consuming thoughts- were getting dangerous, though. They were keeping him from living. They were keeping him from breathing. From going after her. So many nights he had started for the stairs with the full intention of going straight to her. Straight to the arms that always brought him comfort. To the warmth that reminded him that it was possible to be happy-if only for brief instances in time. Sometimes he made it to the car. Sometimes to her road.

Sometimes no further than one foot in front of the other.

He had sat at home night after night and stared at his boat. He had not done any actual work to it in over three months. He just sat at his workbench and stared. And when his eyes had gotten heavy enough, he had dragged himself to the couch, not usually making it to the bedroom. He was miserable. He tried to make himself feel better. He tried drinking the pain away. He tried running it out of his system. He even tried living at work for a few days but it all came back to the same thing. The same memories, the same feelings of self loathing.

Gibbs tried not to pay attention to the days. How many had gone by already and how many were yet to come. Abby was crossing the days off on a calendar in her lab and he now dreaded the daily trek down there. It only reminded him of what little time he actually did have left before Lizzy left. She had slowly, over a period of days, been packing up her desk. With each passing day he saw himself coming closer and closer to staring at another empty desk. Daily he fought the urge to be sick. It was Thursday. Tomorrow was the day. The last day. Her last day. He watched her at her desk out of the corner of his eye. He watched her as she got up and passed in front of his desk on her way to the bathroom. His eyes followed her. He had watched her a lot these past couple of weeks. Watched a lot and said little. His words were not what she needed. She needed him. All of him. He wondered if he would ever be able to give that to her. He had overheard Tony and McGee talking about the guy she had had dinner with. Sgt. Rivers. He wondered how serious it was.

Everytime he looked at his watch, a calendar, the sun… they all seemed to be going in a reverse direction. Never forward. His life never moved forward. It always moved backward to a shattering moment and then forward from there to the present when the process started again. Never forward completely. He knew that she had been his chance of stepping out of the revolving doors. And he had pushed her away. Ok, tossed away. She had fought him until she realized she wouldn't win and he knew Lizzy hated to lose. Almost as much as he did. Her actions the past few weeks had been almost without movement. He saw her arrive, punch the proverbial time card, and leave. All this without a wink, without a brush against him in the elevator, without a shared cup of coffee. And yet here he sat, staring at her empty desk. Again. For what had to be the fifth time in two hours. His mind suddenly went into working mode. All of a sudden he realized the oddity of her vacant seat. That woman had a bladder of steel. No matter how many stakeouts, undercover ops…this woman could hold it for days and yet she was again gone. And for greater lengths of time with each visit. He checked his watch. Ten minutes so far this time. He was almost concerned enough to check on her when the elevator doors opened and a man stepped out carrying a large arrangement of flowers. Gladiolas and lilies. Lizzy's favorite, Gibbs noticed as the flowers walked by him. The man holding them looked at the card and looked around. "Lizzy?" he said, to no one in particular. Gibbs motioned to her desk and the flowers deposited right in the very center of her workspace. Now Gibbs was curious. They weren't from him. Gibbs never sent flowers. Maybe that was the problem, he thought. Maybe if I'd done a little more romancing and a little less… His thoughts were interrupted by Tony, who had approached Lizzy's desk, looking around to make sure the coast was clear before reaching for the card.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said in a warning tone, without looking up.

"Yea, Boss?"

"Are they yours?"

"Well, no, Boss, but I—"

Gibbs looked up now and simply stared at his senior field agent.

"Going back to my seat now, Boss," he said as he slunk back to his desk, Ziva giving him and I-told-you-so look across the bullpen.

Gibbs checked his watch again. Twenty minutes now. She had thirty more seconds and he was sending Ziva to check it out.

Lizzy had felt his eyes following her as she made her way down the hall. It would almost be embarrassing if she wasn't in so damn much pain. Her fourth-no fifth trip, her mind told her, in less than two hours. People were going to start thinking she was pregnant. And if that wasn't the farthest thing from the truth… Not that her pain wasn't indirectly being caused by a pregnancy, though. A month ago, she thought she was just starting her monthly cycle early. But when it didn't stop completely she became a little concerned. She hadn't made it for her doctor visit yet. She had put it off till tomorrow. Tomorrow. Her last day as a Gibbs girl, so to speak. And now, today, she was bleeding. Heavily. She made it to the bathroom but felt dizzy as she pushed the door open. She grabbed for the

counter and felt the coolness of it under her hands. Come to think of it, she was feeling a little warm. Maybe more than a little. She steadied herself at the sink and looked into the mirror. She almost couldn't bear to look at the reflection she saw. She was miserable. Not just physically but she was emotionally whipped. Exhausted. Her days consisted of trying to focus on her job while thoughts of Gibbs kept trying to spearhead her brain. Then, at night, alone, she would think of him. She would wake in the middle of the night to emptiness beside her and spend the rest of the night watching the dots on the alarm clock blinking. She was sure there was a way to stop the blinking but at this point it could almost be considered comforting. Unlike her present state, which was anything but. She leaned her elbows down to rest on the counter and reached to turn the water on. She let the cool water trickle over her fingers. Then the pain reached her again. She grabbed her side to keep from losing complete control. She wondered if Gibbs had noticed how long she had been gone. Gibbs noticed everything. And that was her last thought before she slumped to the floor.

Gibbs checked his watch again. Finally his concern outvoted his pride.

"Ziva," he said looking across his desk at the dark haired Israeli.

"Yes, Gibbs?"

"Check on Lizzy, will ya?"

Ziva nodded and was glad for the opportunity. She too had been concerned with Lizzy's frequent trips down the hall. She had noticed the other woman's intake of aspirin had increased since the shooting without slacking off even a little. She had noticed Lizzy's walk had slowed lately also. Ziva knew what happened after the shooting. She was the only one that knew. Ziva had understood the other woman's need to keep it private but that was before the very public lover's spat that had occurred in the middle of the bullpen. She knew Lizzy still hadn't told him. Gibbs would not be this calm or docile if he knew. Life at NCIS would be beyond miserable if he had known what Lizzy had kept from him.

Ziva pushed the bathroom door open and saw Lizzy's limp figure splayed on the cold tile floor. She quickly knelt beside her and checked for a pulse. Blood covered the floor beneath Lizzy's lifeless form and once Ziva had found a pulse, faint but there, she ran to the door and called out for Gibbs.

Gibbs was in the middle of a phone call when he heard Ziva's cry from the bathroom. The phone clattered to his desk as he ran to the hallway with Tony and McGee close on his heels. He opened the door and found Lizzy laying in another pool of blood. Ziva trying desperately, unsuccessfully, to find the source of all the blood, looked up at Gibbs as he stepped over Lizzy's body to kneel down on her other side.

"What happened," Gibbs said in a gruff voice, choked with emotion.

"I do not know. When I opened the door, she was already on the floor. I am not sure how long she has been laying here."

Gibbs could hear voices near him. He heard Tony calling for an ambulance. He could hear McGee calling for Ducky. He could hear Ziva whispering softly to Lizzy. But what he did not hear, what he could not hear, was her. He could not hear Lizzy. She wouldn't wake up. She wouldn't open her eyes. He wanted her to speak, make a sound, something that told him that she would be ok. He had no idea where the blood was coming from. He could see no external wound. He couldn't stop it if he didn't know where it was coming from. And he wanted to stop it. He wanted to make it all go away. He looked up as Ducky entered the room with Abby close on his heels.

"Oh, my, my. That is quite a bit of blood, isn't it, now?" Ducky set his black bag next to Jethro and began examining Lizzy's unconscious body.

"I can't find a wound, Ducky. I don't know where it's all coming from," Gibbs said, running his fingers through his silver hair in frustration.

"Do not fret, Jethro. The ambulance will arrive any minute and get her to the proper facility."

As if by magic, the EMT's walked through the door as Ziva, Tony, Abby, and McGee headed back to the bullpen. Jethro helped lift her to the gurney, praying that her eyes would flutter open just for a second. But her eyes never so much as twitched. He watched her chest rise up and down with her labored breathing. Gibbs was not man that believed in fate, or coincidences, or déjà vu but today, standing next to Lizzy's lifeless body on a gurney for the second time in three months was too much for him. He followed the EMT's to the elevator. This time he was going with her. He had made the mistake last time of not being there to hold her hand or brush the hair back from her eyes or to tie her gown closed so the male nurses couldn't get a glimpse of what was his. And she had been his, for a brief moment. But as he stepped into the elevator, he felt a hand at his back, grabbing his shirt, pulling him back. He fought it, as he did not want the ambulance to leave without him but the hand pulled harder and he turned to face his would be assailant.

"You cannot go with her."

He stared hard into the beautiful brown eyes of his other female agent. When he was sure that he had stared hard enough to get his point across, he turned around and pushed the down arrow button, praying that the ambulance would still be there. The hand reached out again and spun him around.

"This will be your only warning, Agent David."

"And this will be yours." The elevator doors opened and Gibbs stepped in, Ziva close behind. As the doors shut, Ziva reached over to flip the kill switch.

"Ziva." Gibbs said in a tone that she had rarely heard him use.

"Gibbs, I am not trying to detain you from following Agent Edwards but there is…" she paused for a moment, weighing her options. She knew Lizzy would be mad but Gibbs could not just go barging into the hospital completely unaware of the situation. "There is something I should tell you before you go to the hospital."

Gibbs checked his watch, barely hearing the words Ziva was speaking. He watched the seconds tick by. Seconds that he was losing by being stuck in this damn elevator with her instead of on his way to the hospital with Lizzy.

"Whatever it is can wait, Ziva," Gibbs said as he flipped the switch to on.

"It cannot wait, Gibbs," she said hitting the kill switch one more time. Gibbs was getting aggravated. Ziva looked at his face. Ok, way more than aggravated. Pissed off might be a better term. But she knew he needed to know.

"Gibbs, you didn't see any wounds on her body, did you?"

He looked at her strangely then, wondering where this conversation was headed. He shook his head.

"And yet there was a large pool of blood…"

He nodded again, this time in agreement.

"Gibbs, when Lizzy shot herself in the shoulder, she was three months pregnant. "

Gibbs heard what she said and then he HEARD what she said. Pregnant? No. Not Lizzy. When she shot herself? That would mean that… that…

"It was yours," Ziva said quietly.

Mine? No, not mine. Lizzy? Pregnant? And then she shot herself. And… she didn't look pregnant. Gibbs looked up with a question that Ziva read in his eyes.

"After she was shot, she went into surgery. By then she had lost a lot of blood."

Ziva watched his face. She watched a dark cloud pass over it.

"She lost the baby, Gibbs. I'm sorry. The blood today was probably a complication of losing the baby."

Gibbs leaned his back against the wall of the elevator and sunk to the floor. The darkness surrounded him. He was no longer aware of Ziva. He was only aware of his thoughts. His brain. His heart that had begun to bleed from the inside out. So many questions. So many questions pounded through his mind. Why hadn't she told him? He knew the answer to that one. Or thought he knew. She hadn't dropped so much as a hint. A baby. His baby. Their baby. He hadn't even thought about having kids since Kate died. He just figured himself for too old, too mean. But he loved kids. She knew he loved kids. She also knew that he lived in the past, surrounded by memories that haunted him. And he had run from her when she had needed him the most. He had run from her, leaving her to deal with the loss of another child. He dropped his head into his hands and took a long shuddering breath. What would he say to her now? How would he be able to stand in front of her and have a normal conversation? He didn't know whether to be angry or miserable or both at the same time. He stood up slowly. He flipped the on switch and let the elevator take him to the garage. He nodded at Ziva, took a deep breath and stepped out. He unlocked his car and slid behind the wheel. The engine roared to life. But the car never left the lot. He kept seeing Lizzy's lifeless form, blood covering her. The image would switch and she would be lying next to him in bed, whispering all the naughty things she was going to do to him. Then his mind flashed to the photograph of her and her son, in the hospital bed. Gibbs pulled slowly out of the Navy yard with tears once again threatening those baby blues.

A/N: Don't know if anyone saw that coming but I did hint at it a few chapters back. I think one more chapter should wrap it up and then… a sequel perhaps? I already have it outlined and a working title. Hope you have enjoyed it to this point…


	15. Chapter 15

***Disclaimer: Ok, so I found a really great deal on ebay and ordered the five season set and now I guess I own those when they arrive but as for everything else? Sadly no.

The silence was deafening. He could hear himself think and he didn't like it. His thoughts attacked him from all sides. He was mentally paralyzed. He drove on auto pilot. But auto pilot to where? To the hospital? To the basement? Again his mind ripped at him. Clawed at him. He wanted desperately to be with her. But she had lied to him-ok not lied. But she had withheld information which was the same as lying. Why? Why would she keep their baby a secret? His foot hit the gas pedal a little harder. His heart knew why she had done it and deep down he couldn't fault her for it. He'd never said the words but she had known that commitment was not a factor in their relationship. And she hadn't pushed it. They had kept it simple but complicated. But not so complicated that marriage, much less a baby, had ever been a topic of conversation. Hell, they hadn't even made it to the infamous "L" word. Well, she had. Sort of. In not so many words. And he had walked out. It was his calling card. The woman, the one woman he needed in his life, was lost to him and no trip to the hospital or bouquet of green M & M's was going to bring him any closer to where he wanted to be. With her. Inside of her. Next to her. On top of her. Underneath of her. Staring into her oceanic blue eyes. Polaroids flashed in his mind only this time it wasn't Kate he saw. He saw Lizzy. His Lizzy.

*FLASH* Staring back at him across the table, a home cooked meal in front of them *FLASH* Her strength and determination as she pounded the punching bag in front of her *FLASH* Her face when it was focused on a crime scene with her hair tightly contained underneath of her ventilated NCIS hat *FLASH* Her naked body as it moved underneath of his, begging for more *FLASH* He was snapped back to reality as he veered too far across the yellow lines and horns began to blow.

She started to come to in the recovery room. The walls spun around her when she first opened her eyes. It made her dizzy so she closed them again. She could hear the nurses moving around her. She could feel the blood pressure cuff inflate and become tight. What the hell happened? she thought. What in holy hell am I doing in a hospital? I have to finish packing. I have to get to the Enterprise. Agent afloat. Gibbs. Her mind threw her little snippets of information as the seconds ticked by. She wanted to go back to sleep but her mind wouldn't let her. It was wide awake and flashing bright lights at her. Maybe it was the doctor. She definitely had more than a few questions for him. When she could take it no more, she forced her eyes open, spinning I.V. poles be damned. Her eyes focused as best they could. The nurse came to her bed when she noticed Lizzy waking. They gave her another hour in recovery then moved her to her own room.

The sedan pulled slowly into the visitor parking lot. He found a spot and shut the car off. He wondered if he was doing the right thing-the smart thing, coming here to the hospital. Would she be upset to see him there? Or would she be upset if she didn't see him there? He walked across the parking lot but halfway to the automatic doors, he stopped. He stopped, turned on his heel, and went back to his car. He sat, staring out at the skyline in front of him. Dammit, he thought. He was scared. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was terrified – not for the first time in his life and certainly not for the last – and so he sat, hands on steering wheel, head on hands, taking long, shuddering breaths. But what – what was he going to say to her? She had carried their child inside of her body. For three months. Not three weeks, three months. His head thumped against his hands. He should have noticed. Why didn't he notice? Because he was smitten. Smitten? Did anybody even use that word anymore? But yes, that's exactly what he was, had been. And the first part of the relationship is always the best. The looks, the touches, the constant derailment of a train of thought, the passion, the questioning, the flirting, the teasing, the feeling of utter weightlessness… He knew why he hadn't noticed and he knew why she had kept it from him. He sat up and leaned his head back against the headrest. He could do this. He could prove to Lizzy that she was what he needed. He could prove to her that relationships based on intense circumstances could work. He chuckled a little at his own movie reference. They'll bring me into the 21st century yet, he thought. He got out of the car and started for the hospital door, vowing to make it through them this time around.

In her own room, Lizzy had yet to talk to a doctor. The nurses weren't helpful, even when she threatened them with Ziva's infamous paperclip technique. They weren't impressed and she was too weak to care. She wanted to know what was going on. She remembered being in the bathroom. She remembered losing a lot of blood in the last couple of days. What she couldn't figure out was why. That's where a doctor's prognosis would be helpful. She was beginning to wonder if any doctors actually worked in the hospital. She tried to sit up but felt weak. She looked down at the tubes running the length of her arm. She looked up at the IV pole and the blood pressure machine and the heart monitor. She looked around to see if she could locate a chart of some sort, something that would tell her why she was here. Nothing. So she gave up and dropped her head gently back to the pillow and closed her eyes. Her eyelids were heavy but she was wide awake. She wanted to see a doctor. But more than a doctor, she wanted Gibbs. She wanted to see his eyes, his silver hair, his hands. She missed him. She didn't want to. She had tried everything to push him out of her head. She had tried extra runs at night, steering clear at crime scenes, and wiping her memory of all things Gibbs. Tried, of course, being the operative word. It hadn't work just as she knew it wouldn't. She wondered if he was suffering as much as she was. If this split was eating him from the inside out just like her. If the days all ran together without a reason to separate. If he ached for her the way her mind, body, and soul ached for him. They had only shared three months. Three months but it had felt like so much more. They had been after each other for three years. She let her mind wander to the memories that she had tried not to think about over the past few months. She thought back to that night on the boat. How nervous she had been, how excited, to hear his voice behind her. She had known right then. She had seen the look in his eyes and had known that that night would be different than all the rest. She smiled to herself and let sleep claim her minutes before the doctor started making his rounds.

Ziva had called to let him know which floor Lizzy was on and to let him know that everything was fine at the office. And by that, Gibbs assumed, she meant that Tony had willingly took over the boss position once again. He smiled when he thought of his senior field agent. He was going to lead a great team someday. Gibbs stepped into the elevator and pressed the number three. He waited patiently as the doors closed and the elevator began its ascent. When the doors opened again, he took a deep breath and stepped out. He walked slowly over to the nurses station, searching for someone who could give him a room number for Lizzy. He stood for a minute waiting for a nurse to appear. A few seconds later, one appeared pushing an IV pole.

"Can I help you?" she said, not bothering to look up at him as she went about her work.

"I'm looking for Lizz—er, Elizabeth Edwards?"

"And you are?" the nurse asked, throwing a questioning look his way.

"I'm Jethro Gibbs, Lizzy's…um, her…" he stammered as he searched for the right word. What the hell was he, he thought. This nurse didn't know him from Adam. What the heck?

"Boyfriend. I'm her boyfriend."

Now the nurses look got even more confused. "Funny,"she said, walking around the counter to look him in the eyes. "There was another gentleman here about an hour ago, said the same thing. Dressed in uniform. So who are you again?"

"I guess that makes me the 'ex' boyfriend. And I'm her boss," Jethro said, shuffling his feet a little.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to date a co-worker?" she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Nope."

"Guess that's why you're the ex,"she said lifting a clipboard from behind the counter. "She's in 215, around the corner."

Gibbs nodded, glad to have finally gotten the information he had wanted. Now if he could just talk his feet into taking him in the right direction. He found Room 215 and raised a hand to knock. Then he dropped his hand to his side. What if she didn't want to see him? What if she blamed him for everything? What if…? And so he stood, staring at her door, waiting for the feeling to come over him that would let him walk through the door without fear. That feeling never came. What did come was the nurse who gave him the room number. She stopped when she saw him standing there, unable to bring himself to even knock on the door. The nurse shook her head and smiled.

"It can't be that bad. And to ease you mind a little, she's asleep. Dropped off about 20 minutes ago. You won't disturb her, I promise." She gave him a pat on the back and a small push forward.

He opened the door slowly, not wanting to make any more noise than absolutely necessary. The room was dark and he moved silently across the floor, letting his eyes adjust to the lack of light. He stood at the foot of her bed and stared at her. She looked so peaceful, he thought. Not a care in the world. He watched the heart monitor as it beeped, recording every beat, every pulse, that echoed in her body. He moved to the chair that sat next to her bed, being extra careful to not to disturb her in any way. He sat for a while just watching her sleep. Eventually he decided it might be safe to take her hand. He reached out and slipped his work worn hand into hers. His thumb began stroking hers and he turned to look at her once more. He wanted to tell her everything that he had been feeling. Everything that had been running through his mind the past couple of months. His mind went through his rolodex of memories and pulled out the one of their first night together. The way her body had fit perfectly against the curve of his boat. The way her innocence tasted on his lips. The way she had held on to him all through the night, always with some part of her touching him. Always touching. Touching. Just like their hands now.

He shifted in his seat so he could look at her face. Her hair was splayed across the pillow and he reached up to gently push away a strand that had escaped the masses. It was then that he noticed the flowers. The same gorgeous display that had been delivered to her desk was now sitting on the table next to her bed. He hadn't noticed them when he had walked in. Who would have had flowers delivered so quickly? Granted, he had driven in circles for a couple of hours, working up the nerve to actually come in but still… He was tempted to look at the card that was peeking out from behind the lilies. He fought with himself for a few minutes before letting curiosity get the better of him. A feat that seemed to happen a lot when he was around her. With one hand still resting in Lizzy's, Gibbs leaned over and eased the card out of its holder. He pulled it out of the envelope and closed his eyes. Did he really want to know what it said? What if it was from _him_? Of course it was. Who else would they be from? Opening his eyes and looking down, he read what the card said and let out a sigh. 'Hope you feel better soon. Mike' Wow, he thought, this guy must have taken a lot of time to come up with that one. He gently placed the card back in its holder and went back to his favorite past time as of late. He watched her chest rise and fall as he continued stroking the hand that was on top of his. The longer he stared, the more determined he became that he would overcome whatever demons haunted him and whatever ghosts he kept within his heart. He didn't want to forget any of his girls but he wanted to be able to move forward with Lizzy. So while she slept he began making his decisions, deciding how to deal with each of the ghosts that haunted him and had made his relationship with Lizzy so troubled.

He checked his watch and realized that she had slept for almost an hour and a half. It was nearing five o'clock when he gingerly slipped his hand from hers. He stood and stretched, smiling at the woman sleeping in the bed. He couldn't believe he had almost lost her. Almost lost her not once, but twice. And in such a short amount of time. He shook his head. No wonder he was so damn protective of her. But he needed to curb that too, he knew, or this would fail again. Suddenly he knew that there was something he needed to say to her. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered.

"You know, Lizzy, I heard once that you're supposed to grow old with someone, not because of them," he said nuzzling her neck, loving the feeling of being close to her again.

"Is that an offer, Agent Gibbs?"

Jethro pulled back from her neck in surprise. Her eyes barely open, Lizzy reached out and grasped his hand. He squeezed it back and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I thought you were still sleeping."

"So you thought while I was sleeping would be a good time to slip in a DiNozzo movie reference?"

He chuckled and shook his head. She smiled at him and held fast to his hand, pulling him closer as he started talking.

"Movie reference? Me? Never."

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up inside of her. It was good to see him smile again. Good to hear herself laugh again. But she knew the laughter was short lived. She knew his feelings for her hadn't changed or her orders to ship out. It was all a little surreal. She wanted to stay locked in this bubble with him for a while.

"Did you talk to the doctor yet?" Gibbs asked, trying not to let his face give away too much. She still wasn't aware that he knew about the baby and he wanted her to tell him in her own way, in her own time.

"Actually, I've come to the conclusion that no real doctors are allowed in."

"Really?" he said, grinning at her sarcasm.

"Really. I've had nothing but nurses and I've even seen a ME walk by once or twice which is not exactly a calming sight, let me tell you."

"Are you feeling any better?"

"If by better you mean wracked with pain, having stitches that itch like hell and looking like death warmed over, then yes I am definitely better."

"Smartass."

"I thought you always liked my ass."

"Still do," he said with a big smile. He loved seeing her like this. The old Lizzy. The one that played, and teased, and flirted. He felt a warmth in his chest. He looked at her. Stared at her.

"I don't look that bad do I?"

"Terrible."

"Thanks for that."

"Actually I was wondering if they allowed conjugal visits here…" he said, his eyes twinkling, knowing he never should have said it but waiting to see the reaction all the same.

"Are you…curious?"

"As the cat."

She smiled and pulled him closer to her. She met his eyes and saw the old sparkle. The sparkle that had pulled her closer and closer to the edge for three years before she dove headfirst into unknown waters. All of a sudden she found herself wondering if they did allow conjugal visits here. But she stopped herself. Just because he was here, just because she felt like nothing had changed between them, it had. He still didn't know about the baby and nothing changed the fact that he had left her. Decided what was in her best interest. Her best interests being nothing that had to do with him. He pulled back slightly when he saw the look in her eyes change.

"I've got a few things to take care of. When you manage to handcuff a doctor to the bed, call me," he said, knowing that he had to leave and start the plan that had already been forming in his mind. His plan to erase the demons from his mind and put the ghosts to rest.

"Are you sure?"

Instead of an answer he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She resisted only a second. Her lips parted for him and he didn't need a second invitation. He deepened the kiss, moving closer to her on the bed. Her whole body warmed to his kiss. This is what she wanted. Every day. For the rest of her life. She just had to figure out how to let him in on the secret. They broke apart only out of a desperation for oxygen. He reached up and stroked her face.

"Call me when they discharge you."

She nodded and he leaned in to give her one more short kiss before standing. He made it past the nurses station, through the automatic doors and to his car before he allowed himself to breathe. She hadn't resisted him. She had pulled him closer. He pulled slowly out of the hospital parking lot, grinning like a damned Cheshire cat.

**A/N**: So sorry it took SO long. Besides being one REALLY awful couple of weeks, I just couldn't get the words to flow onto the screen. So I put pen to paper and it just started racing out of me. And I know I said only one more chapter but I'm just gonna stop saying that because every time I do, my mind decides to get…curious. So as long as nobody's getting too bored I'm gonna keep marching ahead. Semper Fi.


	16. Chapter 16

***Disclaimer: I now own all 5 seasons. Don't ya just love tax time? Ok, but that's all I own….sadly.

The bullpen was dark but for the light on his desk. He looked around. The team had left long ago, everyone worn out from the excitement of the day and worry about Lizzy. He was the only one that remained. He loved NCIS at night. He looked over at the window and out into the night sky. The moon was high, there were no clouds, and all the stars were visible. He could almost see Kate standing at it, staring into the darkness. He had loved so many things about her. He had loved her in the bedroom, but had admired her abilities at NCIS. She would always be the rookie to him. The probie. He smiled as he thought back over the years. How he had taped her treasured PDA to the target at the shooting range, how she sucked on a lollipop just enough to turn him on without trying to, how she had been so smug that day on Air Force One. Not long after she had joined the team, he had spent numerous hours searching novelty shops for just the right gift and one day he found it, exactly what he was looking for. The next morning she had come to work and found a small glass frog figurine on her desk with the biggest set of balls imaginable. She had laughed and turned in her chair to face him. And that was when he had known. He had seen it in her eyes. Seen it that day and every day after. He saw it when she challenged him at the office. He saw it when she challenged him in the bedroom, fighting for control. At first he had thought that DiNozzo might have had a chance with her but it didn't take long to figure out that she was above that. He knew DiNozzo was a changed man now but back then he hadn't stood a chance. He remembered on the submarine when she had fallen into his arms. Or been unceremoniously tilted but the how wasn't important. She had clung to him but after a few seconds she wasn't clinging because she had to, she was clinging because she wanted to. He had felt the change in her body and had put pressure on her waist, drawing her closer, tighter against him. The look in her eyes then was the same look he had seen in Hollis' a few years back. The look of a woman who wanted to be kissed. And so he had kissed her. Not then, but later, off the submarine, off the Enterprise. He had driven her home and stayed the night. She had invited him in for coffee but he had tasted her coffee before and… well… he had agreed to coffee but made it only until the door had swung shut before closing the distance between them and waiting only a second for her nod of approval before capturing her lips with his. And with his capture of her lips, she had captured his heart. He looked at Kate's desk. Kate. His little Miss Prim and Proper Catholic school girl and her wicked ways. It hadn't taken long to get her to open up in the bedroom. Her secret was that she loved to be on top. He had coaxed her with kisses and she had eventually given in – only to find her pleasure heightened a thousand times over when she was above him – in control. And he had had no problem relinquishing that control to her. He had kept his hands on her waist as she strained against him. His tan hands had spanned her waist with a possessiveness he hadn't known was within him.

He had gotten his revenge for her death when he saw the blood seeping out from under Ari's lifeless body. Although he had not gotten the personal satisfaction that would have come with that kill shot, he had still felt relief as Ari had collapsed in front of him. He missed Kate. He took a deep breath and opened his bottom drawer. Lifting up the papers on top, he reached to the bottom, his fingers curling around the object he was seeking. He pulled it out and held it out, away from him, reaching for his glasses. He turned in his seat, looking at Ziva's now vacant desk. And while he and Ziva shared a special connection, he would always see Kate's smile when he looked that way. The way her eyes lit up when she beat DiNozzo to a lead. The way her hair mussed after sleeping on the floor under her desk. The way she bit her lower lip when focusing on a sketch. He looked down at the book in his hand. He leaned forward and leaned his arms on the desk, the sketch pad laid out in front of him. He flipped through the various pictures. Damn but she was good, he thought. And these were just the ones he had kept at work. He had two more sketch pads at home in the basement filled with Kate. With Kate's ideas, with Kate's humor, with Kate's love. The love they had shared. He needed to find a way to move past the pictures. The pictures that were all he had left of his Katiegirl. Her hand had been so steady, so connected with the paper as if they flowed as one. He flipped through the pages and decided he knew how to turn Kate's memory into something the whole team could appreciate. Something that could help him move through the pain, and eventually, past the pain. It would set him free. He held the sketch pad close to his chest as he stepped into the elevator. He would always miss Kate but now, with the idea of framing her pictures for the team, maybe he would finally get peace from his Katiegirl.

***

Paris. Wine. Perfume. Positano. Nights that had run into days that had run into nights again. They had left the bed only for food – even then bringing it back to devour along with each other. Hers was an unquenchable thirst. Even in her last few years, she thirsted. For justice, for revenge, for caffeine, for him. But although they had toed the line, it had always been Madam Director and Special Agent Gibbs. Never Jenny and Jethro. He had been jealous of her numerous dates but he had also felt her eyes on him on more than one occasion. He knew she had threatened—er, talked with Col. Mann but the jury was still out on those conversations. He had always suspected that her illness was more than she or Ducky would let on but he had seen her suffering and done nothing. He had wanted her to confide in him. Trust him. Trust him with the pain that made her bleed inside. He thought he had made his thoughts clear to her. His invitations. But she had known. She had known the rules almost better than him. Jenny had never known where the rules originated but she had abided by all but one of them – same as him.

She had always been a better agent than director. Her instincts, her hunches, her gut. She had always been dead on. She was as good an agent as he was. They had been good together. They complimented each other. Where one lacked, the other picked up. He had seen inklings of this in Tony and Ziva. They were good together too. He knew Jen had fought her way to the top. He knew that her power had come at a price. He had been content to being an agent, but she had wanted more. She had always wanted more. His mind flashed to the bed in Paris. The heat, the heavy breathing, the sheen of sweat covering her body as she ravaged his. And she was just as relentless in the bedroom as in the field. She had been insatiable, wanting him inside of her again and again. He would no sooner finish than she would be ready for more. And he had given it to her. Of course, he had been considerably younger then with a considerably lengthier libido. But he had loved her in Paris just as much as he had loved her in D.C. Only as the years went by he had to content himself with a love from afar. He had wanted to give in so many times. He had wanted to stride into her office, much to the chagrin of Cynthia, push her roughly against the wall, the window, the desk… and rip into her. Before, their relationship had been almost sweet. An affair in Paris, as romantic as you could get. In NCIS, as director, he had wanted to slide her skirt to her hips, push her panties aside and thrust into her, hard. He had wanted to pound against her and bruise her lips with his kisses. He had wanted the roughness and so many times he had seen what she wanted, in her eyes, in her words, in her movements. But he had let her go. He hadn't pressed her for answers. He hadn't pressed her for anything. And that is where he had lost her.

She had left him the house in her will. Actually, she had left him everything. And he had burned it. He had walked away from the flames that had lit up the sky but had not been able to decimate the flames that licked at his mind and his heart. She was an all consuming presence. It's not that the memories of them together invaded his mind so much as the way she seemed always behind him. The voice of reason, the voice of vengeance, the voice of love. And they had loved each other. A lifetime ago. Nothing had reignited since she had become director. He had hinted, she had teased. But the line had never been crossed again. Rule # 12 had started with her and ended with Kate. And then it had crept right up to him and smacked him on the back of the head when Lizzy had showed up. He had loved Jenny in a way that was different from the others, but he hadn't been there to save her from herself. He had watched revenge eat at her soul, claw at her mind until there was nothing left but raw human flesh. He should have pushed harder into her life. Pushed for answers that she had but would not give. If he had pushed deeper, she might not have died alone. He missed her drive, her ambition, hell, he even missed the way she said his name. 'Jethro' always seemed to take on an extra meaning when it came from her lips. Drawn out and pronouncing every syllable, he had always felt a small chill creep up his spine when she had called him by name. Or if he was really in the doghouse, it was Special Agent Gibbs. He remembered how she always quoted his own rules back to him. Damn irritating but always sexy. Always. The red hair, the red lips. This one he had to let go too. He stood in front of the burned out property, darkness surrounding him at the late hour. He had taken all her important papers with him that night. Even the note to him that had been barely started, never finished. After the funeral he had had the land excavated and cleared. And here it was, an empty lot in front of an empty soul. Empty with the need to be full again.

***

That night, at home, in his own bed, he slept restlessly. He tossed and turned. He had finally been able to put two of the ghosts to rest. He still had two left and he had no idea where to start. He didn't have an answer at 2am and he wasn't any closer at 5:36am when he rolled over to look at the clock. Instead of trying any longer to come up with an idea he decided he needed some help. So in the early hours of the morning, when the sky was barely pink, he went down to the basement. He found what he was looking for and dumped the five gallon bucket, half filled with nails, upside down. The nails went crashing onto the concrete floor, mixing with broken glass. He took the empty bucket to his car and threw it in the back seat. He drove the distance to the cemetery and pulled up alongside familiar markings. Bucket in hand, he made his way through numerous headstones before finding his girls. He turned the bucket upside down and took a seat.

From all outward appearances, it was a man paying his respects to his family members. Any one looking closer, though, would have seen a man wracked with guilt, walking around the markers talking to himself, to the ghosts. He would sit for a while, head in hands, fingers raking through his silver hair. He would kneel and sweep the leaves and grass from around the edges. He would stand again and start talking to himself, to them. Sometimes his lips would move, sometimes his hands would move. He relived the moments, the memories that only he had. Fishing at the beach, horseback riding, watching movies. He thought about Kelly helping him sand the boat. He saw Kelly and Maddie laughing and running around the yard. He thought about the very first moment he had laid eyes on Shannon and the very last time he had seen them both. He wouldn't be who he was today without them. Shannon had been so beautiful that day at the train station. He had felt like the luckiest man alive when she sat next to him on the train and talked his ear off. He had heard about everyone of her rules and the only thing that had been running through his mind that day was that he was glad he wasn't a lumber jack. He pictured the looks on their faces when he left that last time. The last time he would ever see them. The hours passed and still he remained in the same spot, rooted to the ground in front of their headstones. As the hours passed, though, his features became softer. He had arrived with pain, anguish, guilt and frustration clouding his face and dulling the sparkle that lit his blue eyes. And now, sometime in the late afternoon, the pain had turned to peace, the anguish to content, the guilt to innocence, and the frustration to understanding. He had shed enough tears years ago to last a lifetime. This time all that came to him was a freedom in his soul.

Back in the car, he checked his phone for messages but there were none. He knew the team would call if they needed him. And Lizzy. Would she call if she needed him, he wondered. The drive to the hospital was short. Again he questioned whether he should even go in. And again he knew the answer. This time, though, fear wasn't foremost in his mind. He knew now, more than ever, exactly what he wanted. What he didn't know was how he was going to go about getting it.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, looking quickly around for the nurse that had given him such a hard time the day before. He knew he shouldn't but he wanted to know what the doctor had to say about Lizzy. He knew that all he had to do was ask her himself but he wasn't sure how honest she would actually be with him. Of course when he needed a nurse, she was nowhere to be found. He walked to her room and knocked as he opened the door. He caught his breath as he caught site of Lizzy's almost naked form. She turned halfway when she heard the knock attempting to reach for the robe on the bed. When she saw it was him, she went back to her previously interrupted task of fastening her bra. He's seen it all before, she thought. Why get shy now?

"Need a hand?" Gibbs said as he moved inside the room and shut the door behind him. "Or two?"

She smiled as she pulled the straps to her shoulder and turned completely to face him, reaching for her sweats at the end of the bed. His eyes raked over her body and came to rest on the two gauze bandages on either side, beneath her stomach. He saw slight bruising and saw her flinch as she raised her knees to slip the pants on. Her attempt failed and he came to her rescue, motioning her to sit on the bed. When she sat, he crouched down to slowly put her feet into the sweats and move them up her legs. She stood to pull them the rest of the way and his hands never left her waist. His thumbs began drawing circles on her skin as he leaned in closer. Her lips were so inviting and he had missed the feel of her body against his.

Still without her shirt, Lizzy momentarily lost control of her senses. Gibbs hands on her bare skin, his face inches from hers, his lips ready to descend and devour at any second. Breathe, she thought. You have to remember to breathe. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed against him. His lips were barely a whisper against hers when a voice behind her startled them.

"Guess he's not the ex anymore."

Gibbs smiled against her lips and she smiled back. He stepped back a little and she reached for her shirt. He helped her drop the Redskins jersey over her head and stepped back even farther as the nurse came around with a handful of papers.

"You've got a few things to sign and then you're a free woman."

Lizzy took the pen from the nurse and signed the discharge papers. She stuck the prescription papers and discharge instructions in her purse.

"Is that it?" Lizzy asked as she slipped on her clogs.

"Yep. You take it easy now. And you…" the nurse said, waving a finger at Gibbs. "You take care of her and I don't want to see her back in here because of a broken heart."

Gibbs smiled and saluted the nurse. He moved to stand next to Lizzy.

"You ready?"

"Another Freudian slip, Agent Gibbs?" she said as she slipped her arm through his as much for support as comfort.

He chuckled and led her to the elevator.

_**A/N**_: Ok, this one's not as long as usual and it took longer to get done. Life gets in the way sometimes. The idea for this chapter was to get Gibbs through the memories, the pain. I know I didn't spend as much time on Shannon and Kelly but I liked the way I worked their paragraph and I might end up adding more to it at a later time. I didn't feel comfortable enough with my knowledge of them as I did with Kate and Jenny. Because Shannon and Kelly meant the most to him I really didn't want to take too many liberties. I now own all 5 seasons so once I watch them a few hundred times I might feel better about adding more to that part of this chapter. The story is not far from over but it is not done yet. Hope you guys are still curious….


	17. Chapter 17

***Disclaimer:see previous

The silence dropped over them like a curtain. A comfortable silence but a silence between them nonetheless. Her mind couldn't help but take her back to 'that night'. That night when three years of want, three years of desire, three years of curiosity had finally gotten the better of them. The car moved slower than usual, she noticed, for her benefit she was sure. Not wanting to talk just yet, the words not quite ready to take the leap from her tongue, she reached for the knob on the radio. She was more than a little surprised when she found all of her old presets still set. How many months had it been now? She punched a few buttons to find a decent song and settled back into the leather seat. She closed her eyes and let the music coax her pain away. Before she knew it, she had drifted off.

Gibbs stole as many glances as he dared across the small space. He smiled when he saw her reach for the radio controls and smiled again at the look of surprise on her face. He hadn't changed the presets mainly because he never listened to the radio. But truth be told, he had actually found himself scanning the stations these past few months, searching for a song – any song – that Lizzy had made him listen to. Ok, she never made him do anything he didn't want to. He was, after all, L. J. Gibbs. But he had loved watching her pop in a CD and shake it while she was cooking – while she was cleaning – or even while she was reading. They would be at either end of the couch, completely engrossed in their separate books when it would hit. The music would filter into her brain, past the words, past the conjectures, and flip the switch to dance mode. She would jump up, crank the volume, and proceed to 'shake it like a Polaroid picture' as she called it. Sometimes – rarely – she would be able to coax him from his spot. Sometimes he would coax her to his spot where his reaction to her shaking was always evident.

He stole yet another glance and noticed her slow even breathing. He switched lanes and when the light turned green, he circled around the pharmacy to the pick up window. He spoke quietly, paid, and moved the car back onto the highway. Now for the decision, monumental in his mind. Hers or his. His or hers. His house? Her bed? His bed? Her house? A decision he had to make alone with no input from her sleeping form. He knew she had to go home. He just wished that home was a place that they shared together. Wait, he thought, did that thought really just….Did he really just admit to actually wanting to cohabitate with a woman again? After all this time… But it was the truth. It was something that had been slowly pushing all other thoughts from his mind as of late. However, now wasn't the time.

He pulled slowly into her driveway and shut the car off. He opened the car door, careful to tap it shut, leaving sleeping beauty to her dreams. He took her bags in first, dropping them to the couch. He flipped on a couple of lights and looked around. Just like he'd remembered it, not that he had expected to have changed. He was heading back to the car to get her when the door opened and Lizzy stepped into the kitchen. She looked a little woozy as she moved to the couch.

"I _was_ coming back for you."

"You took too long," she said, a sleepy grin on her face.

"Too long?" he said, matching her smile with his own. "You were asleep."

"Yea, I heard my bed calling my name."

Gibbs chuckled and grabbed her bag as he reached for her hand. He carefully pulled her up and wrapped one arm securely around her waist. She leaned heavily against him and waves of desire washed over him. He held her a little closer and guided her to the stairs. Her hand slid up the rail, moving slowly, one step at a time. Every few steps he would hear her grimace and touch her waist but they eventually made it to her room. He sat her on the bed and took the prescription bag from her hand. He opened the bag and read all the labels, noting the timetables and side effects of all.

"How're you feeling now?"

"Sleepy."

"Any pain?"

"Nothing I can't live with."

"Well then, the only one you need is the antibiotic."

He brought her a glass of water from the bathroom and tapped the meds into her hand. She tilted her head back and sipped at the water. He lifted her legs onto the bed and dropped the blankets over her. She sank onto her pillow with a sigh. He reached down and took her hand, squeezing it. She squeezed it back and gently rolled to her side to look up at him. His thumb moved back and forth across her hand. He wondered how long he could stay this way with her. She needed her rest. He needed time to work out the thoughts that had been running full speed through his brain since he had stepped back into her life. Being here, in her house, felt right. He loved his house, his basement, his space, but he loved being near her. His hand slipped out of hers and moved to rest on her hip. He started rubbing her side, with only a few layers between skin. He wanted to tell her now. Tell her that he had fought the demons and won. That he could move forward with her. They could move forward together. But how? 'Gee Lizzy, I just wanted you to know that ghosts no longer run my life. How do I know that? Oh, well, I spent a couple of hours staring at an old, burned out, empty lot, another couple thinking about Kate in bed, and a whole lot of hours talking, screaming, and rationalizing with grave markers. I'm good now.' Yea, that would go over _real_ well. So instead he stayed silent.

He watched her eyes get heavier and heavier. He slowly lifted his arm from her hip and gently rose off the bed. The bed creaked despite his best efforts and she opened her eyes. She reached for him again, this time pulling him to the spot next to her. She turned again and pressed her back to his chest. He took a heavy breath and relented to her when she brought his arm around her waist. Touching. She always wanted to be touching. Within minutes her breathing had evened. She must have needed the warmth, the touch, the security. Hell, who was he kidding? He needed it just as much as she did. Being close to her again, so close, was everything he needed and all that he didn't. He still had no idea what she wanted. Who she wanted. She had allowed him the privilege of her lips in the hospital room. He had been granted permission to drive her home. But in the end, he knew it all came down to her. He was the one that had left. The one who had walked out. He hadn't discussed it with her and he sure as hell hadn't asked permission. Apologies and forgiveness had never really been a part of his life – mainly because he couldn't apologize to himself and beyond that, he had never been able to forgive himself. Not for Shannon and Kelly. Not for Kate. Not for Jenny. Until now. So if every part of him was now functioning as one. If his mind, his mouth, and his heart were able to leap forward – what was holding him back? He wanted to say it was love. He had only been in love twice in his life. Shannon. And Kate. And while the others weren't meaningless, they weren't anything close to what he had known with those two. But he and Lizzy had only been together three months. Three months, but three years to build to it. To build to the curiosity that had used up all but a few of that cat's nine lives. So maybe it was the first inklings of love. That point when you feel you know someone so completely and then not at all. When you know exactly how to get a smile to play across their lips. When you know that they take their coffee exactly like you do – black as hell. And you know that life without them would be absolutely miserable. So he moved as close to her as he could. He tightened his arm around her waist and kissed her neck. She gave a small smile in her sleep and he dropped his head to the pillow next to her.

She wasn't altogether sure at what point it became clear to her. Her mind was trying to break out of sleep mode. She attempted to shift position but felt two things at once. First was the pain at her side. The tearing, ripping, gut clenching pain that made her catch her breath. Second was the arm around her waist that she didn't remember putting there. But as the fogginess of sleep faded, her eyes focused on the hand that lay next to her chest. She knew that hand. She moved her head slightly and dropped a kiss onto the roughened knuckles. What she really wanted was to drop kisses on more than just knuckles but she knew. She knew they were up to their knees in it. And 'it' needed to be dealt with before they let their excitable parts get the better of them once again. She suddenly needed to see his face, needed to be reminded of all that she had next to her. She turned quickly, forgetting momentarily about the stitches in her waist. And in forgetting about them, she had also forgotten the pain that they brought with them. So her turn was quick but painful and as she landed on her left side facing Gibbs, she let loose a few choice expletives that caused the man beside her to shift and slowly open his eyes. She began rubbing the bandages on her stomach.

"Smart, Lizz, real smart," she said as her face scrunched trying to block out the pain.

Face still half in the pillow, Gibbs smiled. "Hey, nobody ever said we hired you for your brains"

That smart comment earned him a well placed punch in the shoulder. To which he replied by throwing his arm back around her waist and swiftly but gently pulled her to him.

"So Agent Gibbs….if it wasn't for my brains, then…?"

"Your ass."

She gave him a look.

"And your neck," he said moving in to nuzzle.

"My neck?"

"Mmmmm… and your hair. Definitely because of your hair."

She smiled and brought his face up to look at hers.

"Did you bring my medicine in last night?"

"In bed, under covers, pressed tightly and all you can think about is medicine?"

"Well the whole pressed tightly thing has me thinking a lot about painkillers."

He pushed back quickly, not realizing he had been hurting her.

"I'll get them."

He got up quickly, still dressed in his jeans and T-shirt from the night before. His hair was rumpled and stuck out to the left, reminding her of an older DiNozzo. As he walked back from the bathroom, water in hand, she sat up cautiously and propped herself against the headboard.

"That medicine must have one helluva kick. Last night is a little fuzzy to me."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ok, a lot fuzzy."

He smiled at her and sat on the edge of the bed as she downed the few pills he had put in her hand. She handed him back the glass and he put it on her nightstand. She slowly slouched back under the covers.

"Is it still Friday?" she said, turning her head to look at the clock. Five thirty AM. Well, 5:32am to be exact. In the morning. What morning she wasn't quite sure. She gave an inner groan which turned into an outer groan. Gibbs was about to stand when Lizzy's arms popped out from under the covers and stretched to the headboard. She started laughing, burying her head in her pillow.

"Owwww…," she said, still laughing. "I gotta quit doing that."

Gibbs smiled and leaned over, slowly pulling the covers from her body. He pushed them down to her knees and reached for her jersey. He slid it up so he could check her bandages. She didn't flinch or pull away. She let him examine the bandages, peel them away, examine the stitches and repatch. He smoothed his hands over the bandages. This was his opportunity and he knew it. He wasn't going to get an easier opening than this.

"So… did you ever manage to handcuff a doctor to the bed like I told you to?"

Lizzy propped herself on her elbows, looking down at her bandages. She let a full minute pass before taking a deep breath. She knew this was it. She knew she had to tell him. And she had to tell him now before she lost her nerve, and there wasn't much of that to begin with.

"Amazingly, they did have one there. I mean, a doctor… in a hospital… we get more advanced every day."

He smiled even though he knew she was only making jokes to cover her nerves. She took another deep breath.

"Jethro…"

"Lizzy…"

"I need to tell you something."

His gaze never wavered from hers. He wanted to let her know that it was ok. That he wasn't going anywhere this time.

"The day I got shot," she paused. "The day I shot myself…" she paused again. "I was…we were…"

He reached out and took her hand and helped her to a sitting position, but didn't let go. If anything he held it tighter. She seemed to gain confidence from his strength, his warmth.

"I was three months pregnant, Gibbs."

She stopped, waiting for the tirade that would follow. When it didn't, she met his eyes. She tried to keep the tears from coming but she could feel them. Feel the water threatening to spill onto her cheeks like Niagra Falls. But she held them back a little longer.

"I was pregnant. I lost more blood that I thought I would… and then I lost the baby. Again."

Then the tears came flooding out. Gibbs moved closer and gathered her in his arms, letting her cry and shedding a few himself. In the three and half years he'd known her, he'd never seen her cry, never wanted to. But this was a healing process, like everything else and just because he had known before she told him didn't make it any less painful to hear.

"Gibbs," she said, trying to let the sobs subside.

"I'm here," he said, pulling her even closer but she pushed away from him.

"I lost our baby. It was my fault."

He shook his head and started to speak when she stopped him.

"It was my fault. _I_ shot the hostage._ I_ didn't have time to weigh the options. _I_ didn't figure on losing that much blood."

"If you wanna take the blame, I can't stop you but I can stop you from taking all of it."

She ran her hands through her hair and rubbed her forehead.

"The day I lost the baby was the day I was going to tell you. I was exactly three months."

"Why didn't you come to me in the beginning?"

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Would you have honestly been happy with a pregnancy in a relationship that wasn't even a relationship?"

He opened his mouth but closed it because he knew she was right.

"We would've figured it out…," he said, reaching up to tuck away a strand of hair that fell across her face.

"I also waited because the doctor said it would be a good idea. The way the last one ended…he thought it would be best to get through the first trimester before breaking the news to anyone."

"Even me?"

"Well… that one was kind of my decision….," she said, picking at some invisible speck on the blanket in front of her.

"You thought I would be angry?"

"Honestly, I wasn't sure how you would react. It was a baby, Gibbs. A baby."

"I heard you the first time."

"What would you have done with a baby?"

His voice dropped and became husky as he spoke.

"I would have loved it."

A/N: So my updates keep stretching out over longer periods of time. No apologies this time. A terrible sign of weakness of which I am guilty. The reason for the hold up is two fold: Got a job – yea me! And the other reason….well…I'll be posting the other reason on youtube by this weekend so everyone can check it out for themselves….get ready to laugh!


	18. Chapter 18

*****Disclaimer:** Ok, I couldn't guarantee I would borrow Gibbs and bring him back without a few marks but he'd be wearing a smile? That counts right? Right? "Horseshoes and hand grenades, Tony." Horseshoes and hand grenades…

She brought her eyes up to meet his.

"You are a good man," she said. "A good man with a shitty sense of timing."

She smiled and he shook his head a little, giving her a questioning look.

"Now," she said. "Now, when you have completely obliterated the curiosity between us and then dropped me like yesterday's news, now you think would be a good time to mention that a baby wouldn't be a problem."

She still had a smile on her face but he knew that there was a serious undertone to her words. He returned her smile.

"Hey… just to be clear…we obliterated that curiosity together."

She couldn't help but chuckle.

"But you were right about one thing...," Gibbs said, taking his hand and moving it along her side.

This time it was her with the questioning look.

"I do have a shit ass sense of timing,"

He watched her shift a little bit in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position, or trying to get the hell away from him – he wasn't sure which – when he heard her stomach growling loudly.

"Come on, shorty, I'll buy you breakfast."

A full laugh escaped her and again she grabbed at her sides, aware that the painkillers hadn't kicked in yet.

"Buy?" she said, shaking her head. "No. You, sir, will be _making_ breakfast this morning."

"But wouldn't talking be easier if someone else was doing the cooking?"

"Easier for who?" she asked as she shooed him off the bed so she could attempt to make her escape from the confines of her covers.

He stood but never moved from beside the bed. He waited patiently as she slid her feet to the floor and grabbed his side to pull herself up. Once she had steadied herself, she tried to move her hand from his side but found that it was easier said than done. She made attempt after attempt but to no avail. Her mind and her heart were working against her, making it physically impossible to drop her hand from the warmth of Gibbs side. Again she tried and again she failed. It was turning into an all out brawl. Having Gibbs close…so close and not wanting to let go. But she remembered the words. The words that had torn a path to her heart. He would've been ok with it, she thought. But what other choice would he have had? Gibbs wasn't the kind of man to shun responsibility and she knew that he never would have left her in the first place if he had known. But the fact remained that he did leave her. He had stood in front of her, hell, in front of everyone and point blank told her it wasn't going to work. It wasn't going to work because he couldn't handle it. He had let it interfere in his job.

In the three and a half years that she had been a member of his team, she had learned and memorized 'the rules'. Well, the rules that he had let them know. She knew that nobody so far had been privy to all of them. She also knew that there was a purpose for and a reason behind each one. And while the team joked and teased about 'the rules', every one of them used it as a code for their own lives. And of course, Rule # 12 was always at the front of many conversations, many arguments, and many, many debates. Abby and McGee. Tony and Ziva. Her and Gibbs. The discussions had been fierce over where # 12 originated from. Some said it was Kate. Some said it was Jenny. No matter the who, Lizzy knew it had to have come from somewhere and she knew that it took a lot for Gibbs to break it. But he had broken it for her. For her.

The descent down the stairs was a slow one but they eventually made it to the couch. She sat down slowly and he turned to go to the kitchen. She grabbed his hand.

"Hey," she said, looking up at him.

"Hey yourself," he threw back.

She squeezed his hand but didn't speak. He read the words in her eyes.

"Breakfast isn't a cop out," he said leaning in to kiss her lips. "We'll talk after."

He started to walk away but again she held tight to his hand. He looked down at her, exasperation showing in his features.

"I promise," he said sternly.

She shook her head negatively.

"What? You want a pinky swear too?" he asked.

"Just wanted to ask for strawberries on my Belgian waffles," she said, smiling.

"Belgian waffles?" he asked incredulously.

"Mmmmhmmm."

"I was thinking more along the lines of coffee and oatmeal. I can _do_ coffee and oatmeal."

"You can do a lot of things, Gibbs, just some better than others."

He saw the twinkle in her eyes and his mind suddenly flashed to all the things he had done well with her. Then it flashed to all the things she had done well with him. There were a lot of flashes.

He put his hand to his heart. "Are you questioning my ability to cook a quality meal?"

"Well, I am an investigator…trained by the best. Questioning _is_ what I do."

"And yet you seem to have learned so little."

"And if by questioning, you mean utterly terrified of being unknowingly poisoned, then yes. Yes I am questioning your meal making abilities.

He stepped toward her, holding the spatula threateningly.

"Did Ziva ever mention the time she rendered a man unconscious with just a plastic spatula?"

Lizzy stopped laughing only because she was almost sure Gibbs wasn't kidding. Until she saw the smallest glint of laughter in his eyes. Well, geez, she had seen Ziva bring Tony to his knees with a paperclip. She had seen her make McGee cry with a rubber band. Imagine what she could do with a very thin, very flexible kitchen utensil. It _could've_ been true. Gibbs stepped closer to the back of the couch, the aforementioned weapon hidden conspicuously behind his back. She feigned fright until his lips captured hers. She smiled into his kiss, loving the way his tongue traced her lips. He pulled away almost sorrowfully, smiling at her as he retreated back to his kitchen duty.

After a couple of attempts, she managed to retrieve the remote from the far end of the coffee table. She clicked the TV on to her usual CNN morning show. She would hear the occasional clinking of plates and clanking of plans but relaxed as the smell of sausage filtered into the living room. The morning news anchor gave a story teaser before going to break.

"Hey," she said loudly, getting no immediate response. She tried again.

"Hey!!"

"What?!" he said, never leaving his post at the stove.

"Come here," she said, tilting her head back over the couch to look at him.

"Would you make up my mind?"

She let out a small laugh. "Come here….please. You gotta see this report."

"It had better be an asteroid headed for earth if I have to leave that kitchen."

"Better."

"Better?"

"Better," she said knowingly.

He came from the kitchen and stood behind the couch leaning his hands on her shoulders as the anchor lady popped back onto the screen.

'Good morning, everybody. I'm Robin Meade. Glad you're here with us this morning. Here's some good news for all of you singles out there. A special CNN poll says that 40% of working Americans have dated a coworker and of that 40%, one third are now married. Another 10% said they wanted to date a coworker right now. …In other news, author Thom E. Gemcity's newest book, Deep Cover has made it to the top of New York Times bestseller list less than 24 hours after its release…'

"See… I told you there was a reason for Rule # 12."

"Gibbs, they said 40 %..."

"And what about the other 60?"

"I could say that rules were meant to be broken but you'd probably counter with curiosity killed the cat," she said, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her shoulders.

"You and that damn cat…," he said, shaking his head and leaning down to drop a kiss against her neck. He lifted his head back up only to be pulled back down for a quick kiss. He nuzzled her ear and whispered. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna burn the pancakes."

She released him quickly then, her stomach overriding her libido for once. She watched him return to the kitchen and loved the way he filled the room. The house. Her life. When was the last time a man had cooked for her, she thought? It had been a helluva while, her mind answered. She watched as Gibbs expertly flipped the pancakes to two plates, roll the sausage on the side, and slide the dippy eggs onto the top of the hotcakes. Her mouth watered. She might even have drooled a little. She hadn't had a decent meal in at least a week. Gibbs cooking had to better than the hospital food. It couldn't be any worse, right?

She turned the channel to an XM station as Gibbs came around the couch to help her into the kitchen. She let him hold her elbow to steady herself but that was all. She was determined to make it to the table with as little help as possible. She wasn't an invalid and as much as she might have wanted to milk this injury and soak up the Gibbs time, she just couldn't do it. Her competitive nature was pitting her mind against her body as they fought to control her. She made it to the table with minimal pain as the meds started to kick in. He let go of her elbow and moved to the seat across from her. No sooner had she sat down than the food was in her mouth. An actual moan escaped her lips as she took her first bite. Ten minutes later her plate was clear and not a word had passed between them. He hadn't realized she was that hungry.

"Would you like more?" he said, grinning as he stood up to take her plate, already knowing the answer to his question. After she'd finished off yet another plate of home cooked goodness she pushed back from the table slightly and rubbed her stomach.

"I don't know if that food was damn good or if I was just damn hungry."

"Another attack on my culinary skills, Agent Edwards?"

"And before today, when was the last time you cooked for anyone, much less a woman?"

He started to speak but closed his mouth when he realized he honestly couldn't remember. He had always bought the ladies take out. Chinese, pizza, Thai, Indian…the list went on and on, but cooking? In an actual kitchen? With actual, unprepped food? He might've heated up a bowl of chicken noodle when Kate got sick but yea… it had been awhile.

"This just goes to show…" he said, standing to take her plate to the sink. She raised an eyebrow.

"Just goes to show what?" she asked, a teasing undertone to her voice.

"How much you mean to me," he said, leaning down to taste her lips.

She felt her heart start thumping wildly, and her mind begin to free fall. So now she meant a lot to him _and_ he would've been ok with a baby. Where was this guy 6 months ago, she thought to herself.

"What?" Gibbs said, a confused look on his face.

"What?" Lizzy said, returning the look.

"You said…6months ago?"

Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud, she thought.

"Shit, did I say that out loud?" she said, grinning sheepishly.

Gibbs grinned back at her, walking over to help her up but she refused his willing and helpful hands and made it to the couch with little pain and even less trouble. She almost wondered what he was still doing here but she knew. She knew he was there for the inevitable. The inevitable that DiNozzo said existed; the inevitable that Ziva said didn't. And what was it _she_ believed about the inevitable? Lizzy sank into the couch, loving the way it enveloped her. Money well spent, she thought. Gibbs sank down next to her and she scooted to be close to him. Whether the inevitable was coming or not, she needed to be near him. He reached for the remote but she smacked his hand. He reached for it again only to receive a smack on the hand _and_ a punch in the arm. He relented with a sigh and turned slightly to face her, bringing a leg up to rest on the cushions, his sore arm draped across the back of the couch. He toyed with her hair that she had left down only because he had refused to help her put it up. He was nothing if not charming…

"Soooo…." he said lazily.

"Soooo…" she answered back.

"With a needle and a thread," he said, letting his hand drop to rub her shoulder, resisting the overwhelming urge to make her forget the impending conversation with some well placed kisses.

"Or a needle _pulling_ thread…which would lead to note that follows So and then Ti which is a drink with jam and bread, which, of course, would ultimately lead you back to—"

"Lizzy."

"No. It leads you back to Do. The Sound of Music, Gibbs. Seriously."

"Lizzy…" he said, a little more sternly this time.

"Gibbs…" she said, matching his tone and deep voice, bringing a smile to his stony features.

"How… how do we…" he said struggling for the words. "How do we start this conversation?"

"Which conversation?"

This time he gave her the look.

He leaned back, crossed his arms and put his arm out, motioning her to continue.

"Well…"

"Is a very deep subject."

"You know how many comedians are out of work in this country, Gibbs?" He shook his head as she continued. "Thousands. Thousands of comedians are out of work in this country and you… YOU try to be funny."

He motioned his hand again.

"Well," she said pointedly. "There's the conversation about Rule 12… and the conversation about the warehouse… and the one about my Dear John letter… and the one about the baby…and-

"I get the picture," he said, cutting her off. He knew that everything she said was true. He knew that every single one of those conversations had to occur but wasn't there an easier way? A way to sum it up in one fell swoop? What if he used the 'L' word? It always worked before. But what was it that Tony had told him a few days after he had broken it off with Lizzy? 'If you always do what you've always done then you'll always get what you've always got'. The boy had hit the nail on the head. And those words had haunted him ever since. And so, even though he was a man of limited conversations and even fewer words, he took a deep breath, ready to have 'the conversations'.

**A/N**: So this chapter is a little longer, trying to make up for the gap between updates. I've been writing this story for months now and it has helped me get through some tough times, funny as that sounds. Writing is the simple pleasure that doesn't care if you're unemployed, or you husband has just been sent to prison, or that the walls are closing in. The reviews are what have pushed me to keep this story going, even when life had me up against a wall. 'The conversations' are up next. It's not an easy task writing about love when the love of your life is many, many miles away…


	19. Chapter 19

***Chapter 19

She wasn't sure how to go about starting any conversation with Gibbs at this point, much less a conversation about their future. Or more to the point – their past. She took a deep breath and contemplated the iridescent blue that was his eyes. She wondered if his thoughts matched any part of hers.

He wondered if he should begin. If he should be the one to jump in and say the scary words. Problem was, they were all scary, every last one of them – just like his rules. Course at this point, they were more of guidelines than actual rules with consequences. Ok, wait, he thought. They all had consequences. He shook his head. His train of thought had derailed at the wrong station again. He snapped back to reality when he realized she had said his name and by the look on her face, she had said it more than once.

"Gibbs," she said, reaching over to grasp the front of his t-shirt in her hand.

"Edwards," he said as she pulled him and the shirt closer until their faces were inches apart. The staring contest began and neither flinched but staring down Gibbs was like staring down a bulldog. Easily discussed, rarely acted upon. He watched the blue in her eyes change colors. From dark to light to somewhere in between. She let go of his shirt and gave him a playful shove backwards. He recovered and very quickly and very efficiently, maneuvered himself behind her, squeezing her gently and placing a small kiss behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy," he whispered.

In that moment, the earth turned on its axis. She knew that Gibbs rarely apologized. Not so much a rule as a directive. But between friends and lovers, there was an exception. Forgiveness probably did not come easy to the man behind her. She could tell – after 3 years of friendship and 3 months of whispers beneath the covers – she could tell that he hadn't even forgiven himself for all the wrongs that he felt he could have prevented. So this admission was new to him too. It showed acceptance. But acceptance of what?

"I'm sorry," he repeated, louder this time.

"I know," she said.

"I wanted this one to be different… It felt different."

"For me too…,"she said, shifting slightly and leaning her head against his chest. "The baby was definitely a surprise, though."

"Surprise?"

"For lack of a better word, yes, surprise."

"You should have told me, Lizzy. You should have come to me."

"So you could what? Fix it? Tell me to walk it off? Or dump me? Oh wait. You already did that," she said, sarcasm thickening her voice.

"Liz, I said I was sorry."

"And I know you are but there were perfectly good reasons why I kept it from you, Gibbs."

"Reasons? Sure. Good reasons? I doubt it," he said, a note of sarcasm now creeping into his words.

"Jethro, the mere idea of a baby at three months into any relationship would be considered an intrusion. And you are definitely a man who does not enjoy intrusions into his personal space."

"A baby is not an intrusion," Gibbs said, his voice hardening slightly.

"Maybe intrusion is the wrong word but still…" she said, her words trailing off. She had felt his body tense behind her as the conversation went on. She took his hands, laced her fingers through his and wrapped them around her waist as she spoke.

"I took the advice of the doctor, Gibbs, when he told me to wait out the first trimester to make sure there were no complications. My body turned against me last time. I didn't want a repeat."

"But you didn't have to go through it alone," he said his voice wavering only for a second.

"No I didn't. And that's something we either have to get past or let it be the reason we don't make it. The doctor said I had three months. That meant that either I had 3 months to figure out how you and I would make this work or three months to decide how to let you go."

"But you made that decision alone, Liz. You didn't even ask me," he said, his voice almost a growl.

At his words, she pulled away from him. She stood and began to pace in front of him.

"You're a goddamn hypocrite," she blasted at him. "You're damn right I didn't ask you. Did you ask me when you made the decision to dump me?"

"Dammit, Kate, you deserve better than me," he said loudly, running his fingers through his silver hair.

Time stood still as his words echoed across the room and reverberated in her mind.

"I'm not Kate," she said slowly, her pacing stopped completely now. "I'm Lizzy."

Her words threw him. Had he really called her Kate? He had apparently. But the situations were so similar. Even though one woman could not have been more different than the other, he still felt the old guilt returning. That they both deserved more than he could give them.

And while his words should have cut through her like a knife, she understood. For all that she didn't understand about him, this she understood. She knew that he must've said those words a thousand times to Kate, half of which he probably never voiced. She wondered how many times he had said them to her in his head.

"Lizzy, I –," he started but she hushed him.

"No explanation."

He sat back, defeated. She came to sit next to him on the couch. The fight not forgotten but put on hold. She lifted her hand to rub his back.

"Sometimes Gibbs….," she said reaching from his back to lift her hand to his chin, turning his face to hers, choosing her words carefully.

"Sometimes love, like curiosity, doesn't give a person what they deserve… but what they need."

His eyes fixed on hers, slanting slightly, trying to interpret her words. Love. She had said love. And need. And God how he needed her. But that's not what her words had meant. She told him that even if he was not what she deserved, he was what she needed. That he was good for her. Right for her. Perfect for who she was. And he needed her in the same capacity but in a strange way, he felt that he didn't deserve her. That all the wrong in his life should prevent him from having what his heart needed, wanted, deserved and desired. But he had moved past this, he thought. He had spent days, hours, minutes, and seconds fighting the ghosts that had made the relationship so full, but empty.

"Is that what this is, Lizzy?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She wanted to tell him yes but she was unsure. Some people could build 30 years on 3 months, a lifetime on a little. But them? Their lives were different, complicated, filled with and based on curiosity.

"It could be… but three months? What did Reba sing? 'It's just the fear of being alone.'"

"I wouldn't call this fear Lizzy."

"Then what would you call it?" she said, her voice rising slightly.

He was taken aback by her sudden change in tone. She was getting defensive. He could almost see the hair on her neck bristling. He didn't answer soon enough for her, though.

"In your eyes, on that god blessed, fate encompassed day, I saw fear."

She stood slowly and walked to the French doors leading to the deck and gazed out at the morning bursting into being.

"Fear of what Lizzy? You? The arms dealer?"

"You know damn well what," she said, spinning on her heel to face him. "You were afraid of us… of this relationship."

"Concerned? Yes. Worried? Yes. Fearful? Never," he said standing.

"You're gonna stand there and tell me that you dumped me out of concern? Concern for what – my health? My emotional wellbeing? Were you worried we had only one of those 9 lives left?" she practically shouted at him. "It was fear."

"I don't believe in fear, Lizzy."

"What? Because it's not one of your damn rules? Life does not revolve around your goddamn rules, Gibbs."

"I never said they did."

"You didn't have to. It was implied."

She could see Gibbs blood beginning to boil but it had to be said. They were gonna hash this out one way or another.

"If it wasn't fear in your eyes, Jethro, then what the hell was it?"

Frustrated at her words, he paced around the room, running his fingers through his hair. Finally he came to a stop in front of her.

"Fine dammit. Fine. It was fear. I was afraid of this relationship. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"If it's the truth, then hell yes it's what I wanted to hear," she said, her voice never wavering. "But honestly, Jethro, am I really that scary?" she said, teasingly.

"I don't know, Lizzy. I don't know…" he said still confused and lost, unsure whether the confusion was stemming from his voiced admission or the closeness of their bodies.

"Are you scared I'm going to leave? Is that what it is?"

"No…yes…maybe…," he said, shaking his head. "I know I don't want to lose you."

"You won't."

"But I did. Twice."

She reached to touch his arm but he moved away.

"Twice I watched blood pooling under your body."

She reached for him again and this time he relented, allowing her to grasp his hand.

"You told me that they put your baby in your arms and all you wanted was to hear him make a sound."

"Yes…?"

"And that's exactly how I felt when I saw you on that floor. Lifeless. Without sound."

"Gibbs, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? For passing out? For something you couldn't control? You don't owe me an apology."

"You know exactly why."

He stared her down, his hand becoming tighter around hers.

"For pulling that trigger, knowing…" she said. "Knowing that our baby was inside of me."

He was silent. Silent, not because he blamed her, but because he knew that nothing he could say could take away the guilt she felt.

"I caused it Gibbs. My decision caused it."

"Do you want me to blame you, Lizzy?"

She looked at him.

"You want to hear that I'm angry? Pissed off because you kept it from me?"

Her eyes never left his.

"Then we're even – because you're just as pissed that I called it quits."

He could see her let out a breath she probably didn't even know she was holding. Her body relaxed slightly.

"So we're even…" she said, watching his movement towards her.

"Even," he said, tugging her to the couch.

"I want this Gibbs. More that that… I need it," she said, unsure which set of conversations they were on at this point.

He heard it coming a mile away.

"But…?" he prompted.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"There's always a but," he said with a small smile.

"But," she said with emphasis. "Like I've said in the past, the switch gets flipped an awful lot with you, Jethro."

"I'm not making promises I can't keep Lizzy."

"Then how does this work?" she asked, almost terrified of the answer. "Or does it?"

"It does," he said, squeezing her hand. "It will."

"But Gibbs… there's always going to be more than two people in this relationship. Always."

"I got through that, Lizzy."

"You got through it? In what? The three months we've been apart? The weeks I was in the hospital? You got over in a day what's been eating you alive for years?" she said skeptically.

"I …" he said, unable to finish his words.

She watched a cloud cover his face. She watched the emotions run their course.

"I'm not just going to forget about them, Lizzy."

"Don't expect you too," she said.

"Then what? You gonna keep throwing them in my face? I loved them, dammit!" he said, his voice much louder, almost a yell.

"Sonovabitch Gibbs, you think I don't know that? You don't give me enough credit," she said, shaking her head.

"I'm not going to keep having this conversation over and over again."

"There's an easy way to remedy that, you know,"

"Is that what you want? Now you're the one calling it quits?"

"You did enough of that for the both of us, don't you think?"

"So now it's my fault?"

"Yes Gibbs," she said sarcastically. "The whole god blessed world is your fault." She stared him down. "I don't quit."

"Really?"

She nodded.

"Then the whole agent afloat thing was Vance's idea?"

He had her and they both knew it. He kept talking, not giving her a chance to respond.

"No – you were going to run off like a puppy with his tail between his legs. You were going to quit."

"I didn't quit," she said in a low voice. "I was reassigned. There's a difference."

"Not to me," he said, in a tone that matched hers.

"What was I supposed to do, Gibbs? Stay and be miserable?" she said, taking in a deep breath. "I needed to deal with the baby and I couldn't do that here. Near you."

"You should've told me," he said, knowing that he sounded like a broken tape.

"We've been over this. I'm not gonna apologize and I can't change it. It was a mistake."

"What? What was a mistake? The baby or you not telling me?"

"Both."

"Not the baby, Lizzy."

"Gibbs, I got pregnant in the first few weeks of 'us'. Yea, we took precautions but damned if your Olympic swimmers didn't take the gold this time," she said, turning to look at him. "I mean, really, what's a flimsy piece of rubber against the Michael Phelps of sperm?"

A cocky smile crept across his face and he almost forgot to be mad at her. Olympic swimmers, huh? Still got it, he thought to himself. Her eyes were still intent on him.

"We would've been together for the wrong reasons."

"Or all the right ones."

And while her heart softened at his words, she knew that while they sounded good on paper, putting them to action was another thing entirely. But Lord help her, she wanted this all over again. Wanted him, wanted the long nights and early mornings. She wanted the sawdust and silence and heaven help her, she wanted the coffee and the curiosity.

And curiosity was what had gotten them to this point. Curiosity about boats and bourbon and basements. Curiosity about garages, moonshine, and home cooked meals. Curiosity about what it took to make someone feel young again. And curiosity about what it took to find love. Or the Gibbs equivalent, which at this point was anybody's guess. She heard him clear his throat and approach her. He slid his arm around her waist and she moved into his warmth.

"I'm not going to get any part of this relationship right, Lizzy."

"I know."

"And you're gonna think I'm a bastard for most of it."

"I know that, too."

"And you're always gonna deserve better than me…"

"But none of that matters…"

"Really?" he said in a deadpan voice.

"Really. Wanna know why?"

He nodded his head and moved his face until their lips touched.

"Because I'm ALWAYS gonna be curious…"

A/N: And so it ends… Oddly enough, the entire story came from one line in a song and that one line created a paragraph somewhere in the middle of the story. So I ended up having to work backwards and forward. The song was Better Than Me by Hinder and I could just see Gibbs saying that over and over to all the women in his life. Crazy where the ideas come from. I've got a sequel planned. I'd also like to give KIBBS and TIVA a try but it looks like I better get on the whole TIVA thing before it happens for real… Thank you to anyone who read and enjoyed this story. The writing has been therapeutic and has gotten me through eight months of VERY difficult times and who knows, the worst may be yet to come. And for anyone that's interested…I only docked them about two or three of those nine lives. There's still plenty of curiosity left….


End file.
